Ropes' ends : traditions, legends and sketches of old Kennebunkport and vicinity

/ / A

dMB*»*»i

1 o.

-^ A * O N c „ •^

cP^

f I

.V -^

.^*

'^^ >^

y^q..

"^^

•^ -

'f ^

i 1

•%

•x^^"

> ./>.

^^A V^

^■^^.%\'^^ .^^

xO^^,

^'-^\n^.--;

.-^^

"^J. ^^

•X*' ^

'* *

O, '/

1 , o „

^>^■^ ''^^ 'A

..v^

.N -^

.ri^^

■.O

-0' V

>;;._-' 'f

0(

.<>'"

^s

%

o

<?•

o

s

.-^

.0 o

^^ -nt

"Bonk the happy! Bunk the blest!
Bunk the ne'er forgotten !
Quite thy like in east or west
Never has been brought on.'*

Ropes' Ends

?^M&

TRADITIONS, LEGENDS AND

SKETCHES OF

OLD KENNEBUNKPORT

AND VIQNITY

By ANNIE PEABODY BROOKS

iS^st^

Published by the Author

KENNEBUNKPORT, MAINE

J90I

r ^. \

THE LIBRARY OF

CONGRESS,
Two Copies Received

AUG.. 19 1901

COPVRIQHT ENTRY

CLASS <^XXa No.
COPY 13.

Copyright, J 90 J
By Annie Pcabody Brooks

The Lakeside Press

Engravers, Printers and Binders

Portland, Me.

to

To the hallowed memoty of my
paternal grandmother, Rath Crediford,
who, were she still living, would have
passed her 1 29th birthday, do I dedicate
this simple little book.

INTRODUCTION.

ROM childhood the author has
taken great pleasure in treas-
uring up the folk-lore of the
vicinity^ and many interesting
stories known, which would add greatly
to the worth of the following pages,
must be withheld, as none now live who
can vouch for their occurrence. Several
of the marginal cuts are of especial
worth, since by this means will be pre-
served reminders of the past, otherwise
forgotten. The superscription of a letter
of condolence to a widower, in 1786,
by Schoolmaster Thompson, is truly a
curiosity. The history of this pioneer
instructor, Ezra Thompson, is known to
very few of the present generation.
After all the good he accomplished in
the way of raising the standard of soci-
ety and enlightenment of the people, he
at last died penniless. In a peaceful spot

in the ^^ Smith Neighborhood '^ is seen
his lonely grave. The large slate tomb-
stone stands in its place untouched by
the brush of Time, as perfect as when
first placed there at the expense of a
grateful town. The inscription to be
found thereon is well worth a visit for in-
spection. The Collector's Notice, which
has held its place on a door in an upper
room of the old Custom House for more
than one hundred years, is fast fading
away.

Ah ! Kennebunfcport, can I ever forget thee !

Thou loveliest spot that earth's mortal knows ;
With thy beach, and thy rocks and fair, winding
river,

And odorous wood where the fir balsam grows.

CONTENTS.

The Aborigfines.

Legfend of the Blowing Cave.

Cape Porpoise.

Dinah's Rock.

The Beautiful Exile.

The Golden Rod.

The First Domestic Cat.

The Sweet Singer.

The Triplets.

Tale of My Grandmother's Goose.

How ^'Aunt Rebecca" Kept the Savages

at Bay.
The Old Falls.

The Vessel What Launched Herself.
Clippings.

A Thanksgiving Anecdote.
The Rope-Walk.
Loss of the Barque Isadore.
Pedestrianism.

The Ten-Hour System in Kennebunk.
In War Time.

My Cruise Up the River.

The Seamen.

The Churches.

'* Uncle Joshua^s^' Ultimatum to Spain.

The Town House.

Extracts from a Famous Platform.

Some Famous Men.

A Modern Ghost Story.

•

l£J.i

■^^i^ n

^ <

X!

THE ABORIGINES.

IHE story of the Indian, as
j described by the first voy-
agers, has been so often

repeated and enlarged upon, that
the interest held in its perusal must
hereafter depend upon the facility
of the writer in his own method of
presenting it. Of the origin of the
American Indian no certain knowl-
edge has ever been learned. Re-
specting his characteristics all writers
agree that, if they forgave not
injury, neither did they forget kind-
ness. Their love, like their hate,
only ended at the grave. In spite
of the more common appellation of
Savage, they, after all, possessed, in
a certain sense, a rude civilization.

13

No matter to what straits of distress
they might be reduced, still the seeds
of their cultivated products were
always preserved, A pretty legend
of the origin of the corn was once
told by a very old lady, living in an
adjoining town, who prided herself
on her knowledge of Indian ways.
It need not be related of the maize
that it was the one great production
of our dusky brother. On a long
and tedious march ahead, through a
desolate country, the only article of
food provided was a goodly supply
of the parched corn, which not only
satisfied the cravings of hunger, but
also served as a preventive of suf-
fering from thirst when passing
through regions destitute of water.
14

They were a hardy race* No
weak infant could survive the ex-
posure and hardship to which all
Indian offspring were subjected;
hence those who outlived this period
were sturdy and well adapted to
cope with the rough life which lay
before them. However, they had
their periods of illness, like any other
race, and well these rude people
knew how to meet it, since they
possessed considerable knowledge of
medical cures by means of roots,
herbs, etc. Could the secret of many
of these remedies be known, no
doubt it would prove many times a
benefit. One word on the especial
hardihood of their women will not
be amiss. These uncouth sisters

IS

knew far better how to regard the
laws of health than does the gentle^
civilized female of the twentieth
century^ and by their simple atten-
tion to the requirements of the laws
of Nature were able to perpetuate
their race in dignified bearing and
noble physique. After this descrip-
tion the settler found them. How
are they to-day ?— all changed. The
white man^ with his worthless bau-
bles and accursed fire-water^ robbed
the Indian of the furs which per-
mitted him to withstand the severity
of the cold. Disease came among
them, — the dreaded consumption,
which, till now, they had never
known, wrought havoc such as no
pestilence familiar to their earliest

i6

traditions had ever done. Oppres-
sion robbed them of their upright,
manly form and wonderful appear-
ance, until now how do we find
him? Stooping shoulders, down-
cast look, the perfect type of despair.
What is the future of the poor
Indian? Driven hither and yon ^g
from one hunting-ground to another ^■
until he can go no farther, there
remains but one thing for him — to
turn his face towards civilization.
Can he do this? What will be the
final outcome of these problems,
time, alone, can tell.

Can a tree that is torn from its roots by the

fountain.
The pride of the valley, green-spreading

and fair,
Can it flourish, removed to the rock of the

mountain,
Unwarmed by the sun and unwatered by

care?

LEGEND
OF THE BLOWING CAVE.

n^S^HE legend of the Blowing
^|r Cave, concerning a beau-
■^^m tiful Indian maiden and a
bold and true warrior, although over
three centuries old, is far too poetical
to lose a place in this modest little
book. The maiden belonged to the
tribe of Pocasset, a race long since
passed away* One day a young
brave, sen of a noble chieftain,
strayed down from the northward
on a prolonged hunting excursion,
so common during the time of the
early tribes, and accidentally caught
a glimpse of the fair maiden* From
this very instant she became queen
of his hearths throne and the maiden,

i8

with sighs and blushes, acknowl-
edged that no longer was her heart
in her keeping. But, alas! for the
wooing. The laws of the stern
tribes, known as the " Great Spirit's
Decree/' forbade the union of these
lovers until his voice should roar
over the ocean with a strength that
should rend in twain the gigantic
cliff overhanging their trysting place
and leave the shore scattered with
its fragments. When, no longer,
Hope lingered to cheer the lovers
and the day came when they must
part, they donned their festival gar-
ments, ascended the towering cliff
and, after chanting their death-song,
while clasped in each other's arms,
plunged to their long, dreamless rest.

19

When morning once more dawned
the mighty rock had fallen^ and the
ocean tide^ rolling on in its grand^
ceaseless motion, was washing its
fragments over the very spot where
the lovers had died.

And -when we behold the crest breaking
'Gainst the bowlders that lie on the shore,

We can fancy their death-song commingling,
And lost in the loud billows' roar.

And -when the w^ild ocean seems slumb'ring.
And soft o'er its breast sw^eeps the surge.

In fancy, the s'weet, plaintive music

Wails for the hapless, fond lovers a dirge.

Cape Light.

CAPE PORPOISE.

I ROM a favorable position
on Cape Porpoise Heights
one can obtain the very
best view of this ideal fishing ham-
let^ nestled so securely in the little
valley overlooking the magnificent
harbor, sheltered by the fair islands
surrounding it; and as you look, do
not fail to stay your footsteps while
you ponder well on the remarkable
trail of thrilling events which tradi-
tion and history passed down so
imperfectly to the present generation.
Well may any individual claim, with
pride, the great honor of having first
seen the liglit of day in ''Old Cape
Porpus/' For was not this little
corner of the earth the first to meet

the gaze of the anxious eyes of
Captain Gosnold in that momentous
voyage of discovery in behalf of
^^Good Queen Elizabeth ^^ and his
cherished country nearly three hun-
dred years ago ? About eight years
after this Cape Porpoise was again
honored by a trading visit from no
less a personage than Captain Smith,
the famous navigator. During his
sojourn in these parts he, likely,
gave the territory its present name
from a shoal of porpoises seen in its
vicinity. While it may be possible,
it is at the same time not probable
that any colony was settled previous
to the year 1620.

As every historian can tell, nearly
all the first settlers of Maine were

►tI

>
TO

fishermen or traders, consequently
there would have been no object for
a visit before March, the ** old style "
ending of the year, so when all ac-
counts to be obtained are summed
up, it is more than likely that the
first settlement at Cape Porpoise was
effected the summer before the land-
ing of the Pilgrims, These early set-
tlers, ever suspicious of the treachery
of the red man, planted their colony
on an island in the eastern harbor
that they might more conveniently
defend or make good their escape in
case of a sudden attack. The places
where the fishermen cured their fish
in those days were known as ** fish-
ing stages." This noted island
(Stage Island) to the present day

23

still bears the name so honestly
earned nearly three centuries gone
by* Within one hundred and fifty
years the burial spot of these pio-
neers was well known, in tradition
at least, as the ^^old burying-ground **
to distinguish it from the more mod-
ern one located directly in front of
Stone Haven Hotel*

To-day the waters of the blue
Atlantic ebb and flow at will over
this very spot of earth where rested
all that was mortal of these rude
fishermen, all traces of that portion
of the island having, long since,
disappeared by the slow and steady
work of erosion* Difficult indeed
does it seem, after going backward
through the lapse of time, to con-
24

ceive that ever this picturesque little
province^ so peaceful and thrifty,
could once have been the scene of a
reign of terror, as the following ac-
counts must truly bear witness of.
While the fort on Stage Island was
able to retain the few soldiers allotted
to this section, the inhabitants man-
aged to abide in partial safety.
Somewhat encouraged by the peace-
able attitude of the Indians for so
many months, such enterprise as
until now was never seen began to
take root in all quarters* The flocks
and herds, fast increasing, added
much to the worldly possessions of
the settlers. More attention was i

given to their homes and a better sj^
feeling prevailed among the people. ^/

^

The return of Governor Andros to
Massachusetts after that unhappy,
disastrous siege against the Eastern
Indians was soon followed by the
desertion of the soldiers from Stage
Island Fort* The savages, about
this time, appeared in such numbers
that the thoroughly alarmed inhab-
itants sought refuge, as a last resort,
in the fort, the Indians coming after
in hot pursuit* Forlorn enough was
this company huddled together in
this insecure shelter, nearly sur-
rounded by deep water, the narrow
neck of land (bare at low water)
leading to the mainland occupied by
the enemy, with little food and a
scarcity of ammunition* Fortunate-
ly, the pursued were somewhat pro-
26

w

tected by a fine stone-wall, behind
which effectual fire could be kept up
when harassed by the Indians, who,
having not even the friendly shelter
of bushes, soon retreated, with the
intention of either starving them out
or surprising the fort. When the
last charge was in the muskets (the
bullets having been cut in two to
complete the work), at this critical
moment a little girl of seven sum-
mers, clinging close to the side of
the aged grandmother, besought her,
in tones of anguish, to pray. Bow-
ing her head in the midst of the
awe-stricken assembly, she called
upon the great Father above to avert
their impending doom, if consistent
with His will, or else receive into

27

His keeping the souls of the victims
of savage hatred. After this most
plaintive prayer the fort was soon
deserted for fear of being surrounded
and the hopeless people retreated to
the southern point of the island;
from this narrow point they were
exposed only on one side. The only
boat at their disposal was an old
punt with one end nearly broken
away. Brave Nick Morey^ inspired
by the grandmother^s prayer, under
cover of darkness courageously set
forth for assistance, iwenty-five miles
distant. By remaining in the whole
end of the craft he managed to keep
her afloat, while the suffering com-
pany left behind, without food or
shelter, although cherishing small
28

A Fishing Schooner

hopes of his reaching Portsmouth,
still strained their gaze in that direc-
tion. Just as the shades of evening
were closing in a sloop appeared
heading for the Cape. As soon as
she was safely within the harbor
the crew discharged a swivel at the
Indians, who fled, panic-stricken, to
the forest. Hastily gathering the
exhausted whites on board, they
departed on the home trip, and
neither did one of these inhabitants
return for a space of ten years.

Of all the Indian lore learned in
childhood, this story is the one most
frequently told, and we deeply regret
that the subsequent history of Mr.
Morey told to me by ^'Aunt Kattern
AverhilP' cannot be substantiated,
29

as little proof can be obtained after
diligent search in many directions.
This old lady would declare^ in con-
nection with the story^ that when
the whites again returned to their
old haunts Nick Morey made one
of the number; that here he abode
until death, when, granting his last
request, his body was laid at rest in
a beautiful spot on Green Island,
plainly seen from the lighthouse. In
digging the graves for the bodies of
two sailor-men, brought in from a
passing vessel, several human bones
were discovered, and the old gentle-
man from whom I learned this
stoutly declared them to be the
remains of the valiant fisherman.
We never grow weary of singing

30

the praises of Paul Revere, Phil
Sheridan and others, — school chil-
dren receive inspiration from quoting
their wonderful deeds, yet no more
deserving of eulogy are any of these
than this hero of heroes, the unpre-
tending Nicholas Morey.

The thrilling and fascinating
events which have occurred between
the coming of the first settlers and
the present time must, for lack of
space, be touched upon very lightly*
Who would believe that, in the long
ago, the dreaded whipping-post once
occupied a conspicuous place in this
same village ? Also that Cape Por-
poise was, more than once, indicted
for failing to procure stocks, which
the Government required at that
31

time? It is gratifying, however, to
relate that although these stocks at
length were secured they were never
used, their presence alone being
sufficient menace to prevent any
meriting punishment by this method.
No such clear record of the whip-
ping-post is given, we are sorry to
announce, for more than one shady
report used to be told concerning it*
The story of the Watson girl,
who gave such timely assistance to
her muscular father just as the huge
savage was about to gain entrance
by forcing himself backward through
the heavy kitchen door, is well worth
a place in any book touching on this
locality. The weird story of ** the
haunted house,^^ told in detail, would

add another full chapter of vivid in-
terest. The fate of the first church,
how at length affairs connected with
this edifice of holiness became so
muddled that a few, interested in its
welfare, with good judgment, con-
cluded the only way out of the
perplexity was to burn the church.
Accordingly, says an old report,
two trusty youths, under shadow of
secrecy, were chosen for the purpose.
After faithfully executing their trust
they repaired to a certain house to
partake of a dainty supper, provided
by two women who favored this
method of settling the difficulty. At
the first meeting following the dis-
aster, a churchman, not cognizant
with the true state of the case, gave

33

voice to his convictions something
like this: ^^O Lord, this church
had long been the scene of conten-
tion and strife, and now, in wisdom,
hast Thou sent a fire-brand from
heaven and destroyed it/^

It would seem from the following
diverting anecdote (once going the
rounds) that boys were just as fond
of mischief and merriment in the
olden time as at the present day.
Many years gone past the Widow
Watson lived, by herself, in a com-
fortable abode not far from the heart
of present Cape Porpoise* Her rep-
utation as a joker and her fanciful
sayings drew unusual attention from
the lads of the neighborhood* There
came a time when the first monkey

34

made his appearance in town. Now
for some rare fun with ** Old Lady-
Watson/^ In her absence from
home, one afternoon, they contrived
to leave the new pet in full possession
of the good dame^s house. On her
return she found the little animal
ensconced on one of the beams of
her living-room, peering down with
evident curiosity regarding the in-
vader. The restless eyes of the
monkey just then spied out a near-by
basket of eggs and he began pelting
them at the floor below, Mrs, Wat-
son, having never before seen an
animal of this kind, was half con-
vinced that it was Satan himself
appearing in this new guise. At
last, finding her tongue, she addressed

35

him thus; *^Is this you^ Mr. Wat-
son, or is it the Devil? (down came
another egg just grazing her nose)
I believe it is you, for you always
loved eggs/* This was too much
for the boys and they came forth
from their hiding-place and thus
ended the soliloquy.

Little need be said of modern
Cape Porpoise, — it speaks for itself.
The chief business of the place is
still, as of old, the reputable one of
fishing. Here, for generations, has
this quiet, peaceful spot been the
abode of a race of intelligent people,
thrifty and prosperous. Here the
wayfarer is sure of a welcome, food
and shelter. Here no poverty, in its
true sense, is ever met with. Some
36

great writer has declared we may
look in vain for gross ignorance in
a coast settlement bordering any
civilized country. The assertion is
very true; nothing tends to sharpen
or expand one's ideas like the influ-
ence of life upon the ocean or on the
border ground of its limits. The
flourishing condition of the schools
here situated is truly surprising.
The following sweet little poem^ so
characteristic of the surroundings,
was a gift of one of the native
girls, whose long-continued connec-
tion with the schools, as a teacher,
has made her faithful service appar-
ent throughout the community.

37

DEPTHS.

By Helen F. Ward.

At an open casement sitting.

On the sea beyond I gaze,
Enrapt in a dream of ■wonder.

That its mighty depths oft raise.
And it seems some strange song singing,

In a tone so deep and grand
That I feel almost transported

To a -wondrous distant land.

How^ smiling now seems its surface.

Reflecting the sunbeams bright ;
In its mood a child most playful.

Dancing in the golden light,
Seeining never, never weary, —

Pure azure both sky and sea.
And the boat upon its bosom

Floats amid tranquility.

But spite of its smiling surface.

Oh what depths far, far faelow^ ;
What treasures its w^aters cover

That -would make our eyes to glow^,
Where even the storm ne'er reaches ;

Its anger in foam and spray
Is only of surface w^aters.

In its mood now grave, no^v gay.

Is it thus w^ith grandest natures,
Oft seeming so free and glad ?

Bright and sparkling in the sunshine,
Yet but depths in gay robes clad ;

38

o

And even the strife and turmoil,

Though knocking at heart and brain,

But rebound against this stronghold
And cannot an entrance gain.

Before we leave the subject of
schools allow yourself to be led, in
fancy, to a certain plot near the
residence of Captain Frank Nunan.
There, if you look sharp for a bit,
the object of your pilgrimage will
appear, in the shape of a good-sized
bowlder, carted, by Nature's method,
from the bed-rock away back in the
hills of New Hampshire, Of course,
you will think this not worthy of
much notice, knowing that many
lost rocks have been traced, with
certainty, to their parent ledge for
a distance of two hundred miles
or more, but the interest in this

39

reminder of the mysterious glacial
period is the fact that the elements
of this particular specimen give its
origin to any lover of the science,
without any of the toil or trouble
generally undergone in the researches
of the geologist*

*** Come, wander with me/ she said,
^Into regions yet untrod,
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God/'^

Grim Death has recently claimed
a rich harvest of the grand ^^old
stock ^* so fast dropping out of the
ranks, and as one familiar with the
people of the place walks along the
principal way they look in vain for
some valued friend, whose departure
40

Mrs. Mary Austen.

hence left a vacancy impossible to
be replaced. The residence here
given, while unpretentious in appear-
ance, can readily be recognized as
the happy home of ^* Uncle Tom '^
and ''Aunt Reallie/' Who, in this
section, doesn't know these delightful
people? Long may this charming
old couple be spared to enjoy the
rich benefit of numerous friends.
And do not think the walk too
wearisome to the ''Highlands,'' to
make a call upon " Uncle John " and
"Aunt Ruth," Here you will be told
much of interest concerning the his-
tory and improvements of the place.
The accompanying likeness of the
"Seavey triplets" is here produced
as an especial mark of friendship

41

fostered by the family for the writer*
Reared in an atmosphere of love,
under the influence of Christian
parents, these sisters have endeared
themselves in the hearts of their
neighbors and many friends by
their kind deeds and loving interest
in their welfare* Besides being very
skilled in all the intricacies of the
housekeeper, these sisters are pos-
sessed of uncommonly sweet voices,
which often blend in harmony
around the parent fireside*

Do not think of saying good-by
without having first seen ^^ Uncle
Stephen*^^ Truly he is one of the
few remaining gentlemen of the old
school* His hearty acknowledgment
of your salutation will instantly enlist
42

50

W

you in his favor and his charming
way of presenting facts is more than
fascinating. Under Uncle Sam's
flag no truer disciple of the princi-
ples of Republicanism ever lived. In
fact, '^ Uncle Hutchins'' has been
known to assert that the downfall
of some friend of opposite political
belief was chiefly due to close adher-
ence to Democratic theories.

Within a moon not yet passed
and in the early morn, a shadow
flitted like a leaf past my window,
and in another instant the subject
of my thoughts stood before me.
Quickly extending to the visitor the
courtesy of the house, we then del-
icately inquired the object of the visit.

''Well," said Mary, ''some one

43

down home told me how you was
writing a book and said you was
going to have something about the
Cape in it^ and I told ^em I bet you
would like my picture if you could
get iU I had some taken a few
days ago and you shall have one if
you want it/^

We readily acquiesced to the pro-
posal.

*'Now, what you going to say
about me ? ** asked Mary.

** What would you like to see in
print about yourself?^' was the
inquiry.

** Wellf can^t you tell how hard I
have worked, here, there and every-
where, for twenty-four years, to
keep my invalid brother from the

44

hands of charity? Who else you
going to tell about down there?
Now^ there hain't but three or four
of the old standards left, you know,
and 'twouldn't be any harm to
mention ^em alL There's ^ Uncle
Edmund/ didn't he always treat
you well when you was the school-
ma'am down there? And ^ Uncle
George Avery/ over eighty years
old and his memory just as good as
ever, he'd feci slighted if you spoke
about the rest and did not mention
him. Besides, I s'pose you forgot
about Mis Thomas Stone, as good
an old Baptist as ever lived," — and
in an undertone — '^I believe you
are a Baptist, hain't ye?"

Poor old Mary ! Who would not

45

be willingf to be the ** character ** of
a community in which they live
could they but possess the firm hold
of the Christianas faith so evidently
in the keeping of this simple woman?

'T^vill not be long, the eye of faith discerning
The ^vondrous glory that shall be revealed.

Instructs the soul, that every day is learning
The better wisdom which the •world concealed.

Until the electric railway found
its way into Cape Porpoise^ the vil-
lage put you much in mind of what
Arcadia might have been, — with
the ingress of the modern road the
village loses much of the romantic
features once its own. But that
which has been loss in one direction
is of inestimable gain in another,
and the residents very willingly
46

endorse this. Unlike the old lady,
farther up the "line/' whose only
objection to the proposed road was
the danger of *' smoke '' and ** cin-
ders'' gaining entrance into her
west room, — the generous people of
Cape Porpoise have never experi-
enced any discomforts from this
source, — and so we leave them.
What will be the future of this old-
time settlement ? Who can tell ?

47

DINAH^S ROCK.

O MAN^ times as has
been our delight to walk
the length of the main
thoroughfare of this historical region^
the invigorating breeze from the
ocean prompting us^ unconsciously^
to hasten our footsteps^ until as we
draw near to the place of a tragedy
of Indian days so unlike any ever
known to the history of early times^
just so many times do we, thought-
lessly, linger for an instant, as if
impelled by invisible spirits, while
we turn a regretful glance upon all
that is seen of the well-known
Dinah's Rock, The fate of Dinah,
the good squaw, is, indeed, harrow-
ing to relate. During the summer
./ 4S

preceding her murder, a settler, liv-
ing not far from this quarter, had
allowed his little daughter to wander
into the bushes near their house to
gather her fill of the plentiful berries
so tempting to childhood. The
watchful eye of the parent, all un-
suspecting of the danger lurking so
near, was suddenly horrified to see
a lithe savage spring from the
underbrush, and before the agonized
parent could lend any assistance the
relentless hand of the assassin had
buried the tomahawk, more than
once, deep into the neck of his lovely
child, and then rush away. Frenzied
as he was over the loss of his child,
he yet was calm enough to realize
how fruitless would be the attempt

49

to set forth in haste for another
victim towards reconciliation of his
great loss. Something in the appear-
ance of the white man caused her
to take alarm, and she sped for the
forest. She could easily have out-
stripped the man in his maimed
condition, but for the fatal mishap
of catching the side of her snow-shoe
in the crevice in the ledge. Before
she could extricate herself her pur-
suer had come up with her, and,
giving deaf ear to her pleadings for
quarter, he heartlessly brained her
on the spot. For nearly two hun-
dred years the ledge where all this
occurred stood as a monument to
commemorate the tragedy. The
upper part was removed a few

51

years ago, and now serves as foun-
dation of two dwelling-houses situ-
ated at Cape Porpoise near the scene
of the murder* While we greatly
deplore the fate of the harmless
squaw, still the motive leading up
to its perpetration justifies the settler
for this rash act of centuries ago*

52

H

r

THE BEAUTIFUL EXILE.

^^ lUNE, the fairest of all the
S^~M sisterhood of months, shone
I ^^^^1 with magnificent glory
upon all the region round about. It
had seemed to the anxious few who
then eked out a somewhat com-
fortable existence here that Mother
Nature must somehow have gotten
behindhand in her duties to this
part of the earth, for it had been an
unusually tardy season. The few
straggling settlers had little enough
diversion towards driving away the
ever-present feeling of homesickness,
so it came to be a great source of
pleasure to watch the manifestations
of our great Creator in Nature, more
especially the signs of thrice-beloved

53

spring. This year there were so
many disappointments. The wood
hyacinth, which the Indians had
taught the white man to believe
was the true harbinger of spring —
come, not to go away again — had
not yet left its mossy bed to give
hope to the fearless wayfarer.

With the welcome appearance of
June a great change appears. Dame
Nature seems suddenly to realize
that she has, somehow, proved lag-
gard, for all at once vegetation, in
countless varieties, springs forward
with an haste such as was seldom
seen in this land of the setting
sun.

Near the close of one of these
June days whose atmosphere was

54

balmy with the sweets of heaven, a
long-expected vessel from home
appeared over the eastern horizon.
Every other interest, of each and all,
became as nothing, and one hasty
rush was made for the nearest point
to give welcome to all on board* In
the confusion of the heartfelt greet-
ings extended to the few new settlers
brought hither by this schooner, no
one seemed to discover the beautiful
stranger, until coming modestly for-
ward she asked, in tones of refine-
ment, to be directed to the house of
a certain fisherman, whose home
was in the neighborhood of the Great
Pond, not far from the head of Stony
Beach in the region known as Sandy
Beach Cove. All attention was then

55

turned^ with eyes of admiration^
upon the graceful speaker* Until
this bright June day no such fair
lady had ever set foot on these
shores. Who of the colony would
leave one stone unturned to add to
the comfort of this distinguished
new arrival ? Yielding to persistent
persuasions, she finally consented to
remain over night with these hos-
pitable people^ to somewhat recover
from the fatigue of the voyage on
the ocean waters, before pushing
onward to her destination. The
morning following she was kindly
escorted by several good women of
the colony to the home of the fisher-
man. Gracefully returning her sin-
cere thanks to the fisher-wives for
56

their kindness in her behalf, and
requesting that sometimes they come
to see her, if so be it she remained
at any lengfth among them, she
passed into the house, leaving the
wondering women with their con-
jectures respecting her sudden appear-
ance in the colony.

A word here, a hint there, and
the more curious of the people had
learned that the esteemed wife of the
fisherman was own aunt to the gen-
tle stranger. Soon rumor whispered
that although amply supplied with
means for her care and support, the
scattering neighbors believed her to
be one more unfortunate seeking
seclusion to hide her shame. So
the hot summer wore away, with

little to relieve the monotony of her
solitude. Those who were privi-
leged to claim her friendship went
fairly wild over her beauty and love-
liness of character. Autumn was
nearly verged into early winter^
when^ one dark^ stormy evening,
the watchful aunt sent one of her
sons, in great haste, across the
woods for a neighbor, who lived
very near what is now the town
entrance to the old Cape Road,
while the fisherman himself was
despatched for a woman who lived
some little distance beyond Wells
River, whose skill in certain cases
was known from York to Saco, the
extreme limit of the coast settlement.
Tradition gives more than common^

58

minute description of this valuable
woman^ presumably because of her
great importance^ in time of need, to
the settled portion of this territory.
Keeping to the shore whenever he
could, and almost feeling his way
when passing through the forest,
crossing each river as it came in his
way by means of dug-out boats, left
by common consent to serve as a
ferry, he at last arrived at his desti-
nation. The fording-place of the
first river was again quickly reached
by the fisherman and his companion,
but, to their dismay, the boat was
gone — the swift-boiling current had
snatched it from the moorings* Not
one moment did this grand woman,
of long ago, wait* Promptly giving

59

heed to her instructions, a rude raft
was soon constructed by the fisher-
man from logs obtained from a
tumble-down hut near by, and they
were again ready for a fresh start*
For the first time the good man
hesitated; he too well knew the
tremendous risk of the attempt in
that angry tide with so frail a struc-
ture* Without a second lost in
contemplation, the fearless woman
sprang for the raft, commanding the
man to follow* As if guided by the
hand of Providence, they reached
the farther shore in safety, not a little
disconcerted by their late experience*
After this adventure they proceeded
with less difficulty, having no hin-
drance at either of the other two
60

\

''V.

Among the Bowlders.

rivers, and finally reached the fisher-
man's home, to find the beautiful
stranger and her child both dead*
The poor aunt, stricken by the
blow, utterly refused all comfort,
and for a time the family was fearful
for her reason. This humble home
was now made up of the good man,
his wife and two hardy sons, both
sailor-men. It seems that only a
short time before her death this
lonely little lady called one of these
sons apart from the house and, giv-
ing into his care a package, pledged
him, in case of her death, to deliver
it into the hands of the rightful
owner, also instructing him that
among her effects he would find
sufficient means to make the neces-

6i

sary journey to England* This
worthy cousin faithfully fulfilled the
trust of his lamented relative by
seeking out, at his earliest opportu-
nity, the rightful owner of the pre-
cious package — none other than the
young Earl of Arundel. Well this
haughty nobleman knew that this
lovely girl had been his own lawful
wife. As subsequent disclosures re-
vealed, the couple had been secretly
united some time before her coming
to America ; when it became neces-
sary for her condition to be con-
cealed, the only thing that could be
done was to send her, secretly, to
her mother's sister, in whom he
reposed great faith, with the deter-
mination that when he came into

62

his inheritance he should most joy-
fully claini her as his honored wife,
but, for the present, do everything in
his power to add to her happiness,
although, in the meantime, all must
be kept secret for fear of disinhcrit-
ance. Never did faithful husband
receive such news with greater dis-
may* Losing no time, he made his
way to this country, shedding bitter
tears of sorrow at her grave, and
wondering, in his gratitude, what
recompense could he make for those
who had so tenderly sheltered her.
In his will the noble woman who
made that hazardous journey to
afford aid to his wife was remem-
bered generously. The town also
was made a bequest and the family

63

of the taithful aunt amply provided
for. Pity to relate^ how, from lack
of enterprise or some similar cause,
these bequests w^ere never recovered.
From the lips of the very old people,
who, were they living, would far
exceed the century and quarter mark,
this story was handed down to us.
And they also used to tell of the
many, many years in which the
children of the early settlers would
go out of their way to pay a visit to
the lonely grave of the fair Lady
Arundel,

THE GOLDEN-ROD.

To comfort man, to whisper hope
Whene'er his faith is dim ;

For whoso careth for the flo^vcrs
Will much more care for him.

OMETIME, perchance,
your inclination will lead
you to the sunny ship-yard
in the vicinity of the " old church.''
If you look carefully perhaps you
may find traces of a one-time cellar
where stood a solemn-looking resi-
dence in by-gone days* This was,
in its time, the home of a man of
great wisdom, who had not neg-
lected the talents so generously
bestowed by the all-wise Father.
Rather, had he parted with the friv-
olous and alluring pleasures of life
65

that he might the oftener commune
with the great teacher, Nature, No
man ever lived who possessed a
deeper interest in the knowlege of
plant life. Not many years now
passed, one might meet those who
had availed themselves of this bright
man^s instructions.

This wise man, it is said, could
tell us of the forty species, with their
varieties, of the beautiful golden-rod
which he could, quite easily, locate
in the immediate country surround-
ing our settlement. As a result of
this attempt, by one not mentioned,
the supposition will be — when the
pleasure-seeker has found the twen-
ty-third or twenty-fourth distinct
kind of this weed he will suddenly

66

experience a new-felt interest in the
*^rich man's flower/' the orchid,
also said to be a habitat of these
parts ; by the time his diligent search
has revealed the hiding-place of the
second species of this rare gift of
Nature (rare here, but in other parts
only a common flower of the for-
est) — that, with his wet feet and
tired frame, this seeking out our
great Creator through Nature is
attended with just a little too much
toil and exertion for one in pursuit
of rest and recreation*

Not every one has heard of the
value of our cherished golden-rod
to the Indian in other days. In the
first place, among them it was their
national flower, its emblem being,
67 r

as near as can be given in English^
^* Faithful/^ since it never failed
them. Whatever herb or plant
proved tardy or absent, this hardy-
North American specimen never
forgot to put in appearance at the
proper time* Again, one variety-
entered very largely into their lini-
ments for the healing of wounds,
and was held so sacred on this
account that the children of the
tribes were never allowed to pluck
the plant for any other purpose.
Remember, the red man put as
much dependence in his drink of
tea as does his tired white brother,
home for the night from his office or
manufactory; to him it was just as
much the drink which would invig-

68

H

w

•po

orate but not intoxicate as now.
From whence came this tea ? From
the leaves of the golden-rod, and a
fine drink it was, no after effects
from this tea, just the promise of
sweet sleep and quieted nerves —
that was alL Once more, it was
the only flower used in the burial of
their dead. These simple children
of the forest knew not that flowers
were the emblem of the resurrection.
Why, then, should they single out
this particular variety, and this only ?
Wait patiently and you shall learn.
The Indian, as all know, had his
own idea of the '^ great hereafter."
For him it was the '' happy hunting-
ground'' with only the one thing
lacking — the beautiful golden-rod,
69

For this reason and no other^ these
plants^ roots and all^ were always
included in the last outfit of the
poor Indian*

"A worthless plant, a flaunting weed !

Abundant splendors are too cheap."
Neighbor, not so ! Unless, indeed,

You w^ould from heaven the sunsets s'weep.
And count as mean the common day.

Meseems the w^orld has not so much
Superfluous beauty that ^ve may

Blight anything with scornful touch.

70

THE FIRST DOMESTIC CAT.

I AY the writer remind the
reader of the time when
the white man first made
his abiding-place on this portion of
the New England soil^ and found,
with no surprise, that he had pre-
ceded the domestic animal by some
little space of time. To be sure,
there were various wild animals, —
the bear, the wolf, the lynx, the
common wild cat, and even the
beaver, if you please, was no stran-
ger to this soil. Then the harmless
and still more prolific creatures yet
found, though not in large numbers,
would almost trip you at every step.
And the feathered tribe — Oh ! ye
earnest disciple of the rifle and shot-
71

gun, could you, suddenly, be carried
back through the lapse of years to an
early spring morn in this olden time,
what wonders in this line of game
would you behold ! From accounts
remembered, as coming from the
lips of old people, concerning the
immense collection of feathers from
one season^s game, one can plainly
form an estimate of the vast number
of flocks of game-birds which, for-
merly, frequented the coast of Ken-
nebunkport*

^' Aunt Kattern ** had a story, often
told to the delight of the children,
explaining the advent of the first
domestic cat ever landing on New
England shores. A fisherman lover,
returning from England by the
72

shortest passage, and wishing to
further ingratiate himself into the
affections of his buxom sweetheart,
managed, not without much trouble
and vexation, to reach her home at
Cleave's Cove with a fine black cat,
the first ever seen in this settlement.
Great was the delight of the family
at the reception of this rare present.
The father happened to be absent
at the time of the arrival, so their
pleasure in the gift knew no check.
Later, on his return, he expressed
his displeasure over the offering by
sternly forbidding its entrance to his
house. "Who,'' he said, "could
expect luck to follow the home shel-
tering an animal of this description,
for did not Satan himself betake the

73

guise of the black cat ? ^^ However^
the tears of an only daughter pre-
vailed, inasmuch as his catship was
allowed to forage for himself in
the forests surrounding the peaceful
home. Within a year of his arrival,
a fisherman at one of the '^stages**
farther east, now known as Turbot^s
Creek, fell sick with a disease known
as the ** shingles/* Now, the fate
of the poor cat is forever sealed.
What better cure did these ignorant
people know for this malady than
the application of the warm hide of
the black cat ?

Another year rolled on and again
the lover returned, bearing this time
as pretty a tortoise tabby as ever
was seen. Shortly after the arrival

74

she presented her doting mistress
with four beautiful kittens, among
them a black one. So great an
event was this to the infant settle-
ments that the news soon spread all
along the coast limit, and tradition
tells of a visit from a fisherman and
his whole family, by means of boats,
all the way from York, just for the
pleasure of a glimpse at the house-
hold pet and her lively family.

75

THE SWEET SINGER,

ROM the time when we
children, by various modes
of stratagem, managed to
escape the vigilance of our mothers
and wend our way to the ^^Old
Locks ^^ to watch with interest the
exciting but weary method of bring-
ing down river the beautiful ship so
lately launched at the ^^ Landing/^
two miles above, down to the pres-
ent day, this enchanting spot has
been the trysting place not only of
lovers, but ever including all periods
and conditions of life. Just this side
of the picturesque grove is noticed a
a pleasant plot, facing down the
river. I never pass this little clear-
ing, but the story I am about to
75

H

relate comes^ like a dream, to my
memory. Just across the little cove
from this point can be seen, very
plainly, the old '*Tristam Perkins^'
house, so famous in the history of
our town. In the owner^s lifetime
he took very great pride in the cul-
tivation of berries, fruits, etc. My
mother had sent me over to pur-
chase currants, to serve as dessert
for expected company, and I had
gladly offered to assist in picking
them, secretly hoping that in the
meantime I should be able to learn
from his lips one of his interesting
stories of the olden time. Somehow
he didn^t seem inclined to say much
this morning, and the pail was fast
filling with the luscious fruit»

" Mr* Perkins, they say you were
a great singer in your day/^ This
was enough. I had touched the
responsive chord*

*^WelI, I suppose I was, if all
accounts are true, but this makes
me think of a story of that piece of
land over there/^ pointing in the
direction of the bluff* ^^You pay
good attention to what I tell you
and you can make a good composi-
tion out of it for your next exercise
day at school/^

You had better believe that pail
was hung on the fence in a hurry,
for I must not lose one word*

** To begin with,^^ he says, ^^ there
are many incidents of the past long
since forgotten (more's the pity) of

this ancient old section, which, could
they any way have been preserved,
would have been of untold interest
in the history of events/' Then he
went on with the story, ^^ Right
over there on the part nearest the
hollow once stood the rude home of
an old-time fisherman. There is
no cause for wonderment why he
pitched his tent here, for everything
combined to make it the ideal abode
for one of his calling. I never
wearied of hearing my grandmother
relate the story of the tragedy which
befell this poor family. Driven
nearly to desperation by their im-
poverished condition at home, they,
not too willingly, set out for the
home beyond the ocean, about which

79

many vague reports lately had
reached their ears* So the next we
know of them is at the snug little
hut near the site of the * Old Locks/
If they were dreary and homesick
for the old associations^ they still
had the solace of hoping to so im-
prove their fortunes as to be able,
one day, to return to the haunts of
their youth and there again enjoy
the sweet companionship of loved
ones so reluctantly left in ^Merrie
England/ Time passed on and the
efforts of these brave people met
with such encouraging results as to
partially reconcile them to this wil-
derness exile, and they were already
half induced to found a permanent
home just here in this new land.
80

With its abundant resources^ their
little ones might escape the possibility
of the poverty with which they both
were once so familiar. All this time
the Indians seemed well pleased
over this invasion; in fact, they
realized not that the coming of these
fishermen betokened their downfall,
the robbing them of their rightful
possessions, and all the other evils
which have followed the ingress of
the white man, — but this is a digres-
sion. At the time of this story you
would find many an Indian settle-
ment scattered up and down this
romantic river, and of late these
neighbors had become more or less
annoying in the way of stealing the
good man's wealth of fish he was

Si

so diligently accumulating^ ready to
be forwarded home later to procure
the needed comforts for his little
family. Unfortunately, this man
possessed a violent temper, so when
at last he caught a well-grown
Indian lad in the act of robbing his
flakes, he lost all control of himself,
fell upon the thief and beat him in
an unmerciful manner. From this
very moment the little wife^s fears
were aroused for their safety, no
longer was her sweet voice heard
trilling the plaintive airs learned so
long ago in her old home; but after
a day or two of suspense things
began to assume their old cast, the
Indians apparently giving no atten-
tion to the affair whatever. Full
82

soon the horror-stricken fisherman
learned that they were only awaiting
their time, for not long after, return-
ing in the early dawn with the dug-
out boat well laden with his catch
of fish, what hideous vision is this
to meet his gaze, — no vision, how-
ever, but a terrible reality, — the
smoking ruins of his home, the
mangled forms of his wife and
babies, Akhough the Indians pro-
fessed great regrets at the time, still
there is left no manner of doubt of
the crime resting at their feet, for,
very soon following this murder,
the family of the Indian boy disap-
peared by one of the many paths
leading northward through the
forest/'

83

In concluding this story I must
mention the difficulty of obtaining a
story from the old people without a
touch of the supernatural* ^^ Uncle
Tristam^^ was a believer in ghosts*
No one could persuade him from
the conviction that even his own
habitation was one of the haunted,
so I listened patiently while he told
me of the years that the locality of
the fisherman^s home was annually
visited by the spirits of the butchered
family, the sweet voice of the wife
being clearly distinguished at certain
times of the year by the boatmen
passing up and down the river.

: S4

-^^m-^..^^'-

^ V' aV-

THE TRIPLETS.

OW take a walk with me
this pleasant morning and
I will show you a roman-
tic spot, where once was the home
of an early settler in whose family
happened an event well worth
handing down to posterity. It was
autumn, the corn crop had almost
proved a complete failure and direst
poverty was felt on every hand. It
is in just such times as these that
the nobler element gains full sway ;
acts of self-sacrifice and generous
sympathy rendered each to the other
often cause those who have passed
through these '* breakers of life'' to
rejoice that this was the means of
bringing out all that was worthy in
85

their friends and neighbors and unit-
ing them in a common cause. This
abode about which the story is to
be told would hardly answer for a
home for a respectable family of
swine at the present day, but we
are very sure the occupants had
found the true philosophy of life, —
contentment with their lot and cour-
age to endure and wait* At the first
snow-fall their supply of meal was
just two quarts* On no account
must this be drawn upon for every-
day use ; there must be something
reserved for the emergency* What
do you suppose was the ^^food
stronghold ^^ for this poor family,
with winter just upon them, and
every omen pointing to a season of

86

unusual severity ? Why, the clam-
tlats, to be sure, and of excellent
quality were the clams in those days,
and withal an abundant supply
along the coast* In the course of
the winter the worthy dame of the
household presented her liege lord
with triplets, the first event of the
kind ever occurring in New England
and, for more than a century, the
last. Even though the cruel north
wind often drove the treacherous
snow through the stray crevices,
until, perchance, it found its way to
the couch of the mother, still these
little fellows grew and throve, not
faltering when, in her extremity, the
mother was compelled to help nour-
ish them with the broth which came

87

from the clams roasted on their
smouldering fires. And the glad
springtime found them healthy, rosy
and well-grown. It will be of some
interest to many to have recorded
the names of these tiny treasures.
About this period it was not uncom-
mon for a child to bear for his given
name a whole passage in Scripture,
so when ^^ Great Expectations/'
^^Wonderful Deliverance/' and
^^ Little to Depend Upon'' were
chosen, after much discussion and
delay, one might be well satisfied
that, for the time in which they
lived, their names were not only
appropriate but very modest indeed.
We can follow the path of these
people but little farther, for a maiden

88

aunt having died, leaving to the
nephew a considerable property,
they, soon after the time of my story,
left for '* Old England,'' never again
to be heard from by those they left
behind in this coming '' Land of the
Free/'

89

TALE OF
MY GRANDMOTHER^S GOOSE.

IBOUT a mile east of the
** Tavern on the Hill ^^ in
Kennebunk was the happy
home of my great-great-grand-
mother. It had not been with them,
as with many of the pioneers, that
they had found a spot already
cleared, with traces of corn-fields
once carefully cared for by hardy
squaws, for the fearless Yorkshire
husband had redeemed every inch
of this fertile land from the then
majestic forest. These sturdy Eng-
lish people found little time, in their
struggle for existence, to consciously
admire Nature, yet when their foot-
steps guided them to this quiet
90

locality they felt a sort of a serene
calm pervading the place that caused
them to choose their home just here*
Truly there must have been a vein
of the artistic in their natures, for
who could pass, even at this day,
without casting an admiring glance?
Here these good people raised their
family. The father tilled the ground
as only the early settler knew how.
The mother cared, as best she could,
for the round little family. From
the ashes of the maple she made her
soap ; from the sap of this same tree
she obtained her sugar. The care-
fully-tended flax-fields produced her
linen. The sheep were held in as
much regard as the children, for on
their backs the thrifty housewife

91

^y^.

saw the clothing for the family* But
the especial pride of these ^^ grand-
mothers/^ however^ were their geese^
and what luck used to attend their
efforts* You know, at this early
period, the raising of this branch of
the feathered tribe was about the
only way of obtaining comfortable
beds* Let a farmer^s wife to-day
attempt this industry, and as a result
you will probably see, along in June,
an important gander and a proud
goose with one sickly gosling wad-
dling between them*

Well, to go on with my story of
" grandmother's goose,'' — not far
from their home was the snug home
of the geese; indeed, it was con-
structed with far more care than the
92

home of the family. The goose
mother had fulfilled her mission^ —
the last egg of her litter had been
laid and she was now contentedly
" setting '' on the cozy nest so will-
ingly provided for her, while the
father goose was proving himself
the very best of sentinels by con-
stantly standing in the goose-house
door, watching this way and that,
ever on the alert for invaders. It is
said that American wives are the
best used of any country that bears
a flag, I, for one, sincerely believe
it, and I never meet a father goose
without a desire for his portrait, life-
size, simply because he is such a
reminder of the good husband of
our well-beloved country.

93

In this little home all was peace
and harmony ; the Indians had been
gone for a long time now and the
white men were having strong
hopes that they had seen the last of
their troubles with them in these
parts, at least, when late one night,
while they were sweetly resting on
their beds, came the dreaded sound
of the war-whoop, the signal that
the battle was on again. Did these
brave people quail? Not a bit of it.
The husband simply remarked that
it was early in the season for them,
and at once took means for the
defense of his family* This man
knew that the red man was deadly
afraid of fire-arms, nothing would
cause one of them to face the mouth

94

of an old musket. So he began
firing, to warn them that he had in
his possession the dreaded match-
lock, which at this time always kept
them at bay, for fear of losing a man
in this way, — the Indian believing
sincerely at this remote time that
whoever among them lost his life at
the mouth of the gun of the white
man was eternally debarred from
their ''happy hunting grounds."
They passed the night in safety in
spite of the Indians, but when morn-
ing dawned the father directed that
hasty preparations be made for their
departure to the garrison, now the
old tavern house on the hill. The
journey must be made by way of
^'blazed trees," for there was no

95

road» The mile or more was passed
with no adventure* The only re-
gret the mother felt was leaving her
cherished goose. Before she left she
provided the geese with plenty of
food until such a time as she should
return, for she secretly resolved that,
Indians or no Indians, she would
look after those geese. When the
day came for the goslings to arrive,
although disobeying orders, she stole
quietly from the garrison, entering
fearlessly on her mile walk intent
only on securing her geese, if lucky
she should find them undisturbed.
When the distance was half passed^
right before her in the path was a
mother bear and her two cubs, —
now what was to be done? She
96

did the only thing she could do,
shook her home-spun apron with a
vengeance, and the bear, with
motherly instinct, fearful for the
safety of her young, disappeared in
the bushes, and the brave woman
pushed on, with bears ahead of her
and Indians around her, ever intent
on her purpose, the recovery of her
geese and their family. As luck
would have it, she found the geese
all right — why the Indians had not
molested them no one knows — every
2§^g had brought out a sturdy gos-
ling excepting one. With the goose
under her arm and the goslings in a
home-made basket, with the gander
following and bristling behind, she
reached the haven of safety amid

97

the cheers of the garrison. This
story is every word true, just as it
happened, and I will state in con-
clusion that although these women
of our ancestry were brave and
women of circumstance, we to-day
produce just as noble a type of
womankind as then. There is no
** new woman/^ — everything else is
new or improved. There can be
no change in this direction. In the
Latin we find two words for man, —
''Homo,'' the human being, ''Vir,''
the war hero. No such distinction
is needed for my sex, however; the
one word, "Femina,'' a woman,
embraces it all.

r ./^

98

/2^

-w^W-T** ' ■^'- rs.^^^p>

HOW ''AUNT REBECCA"
KEPT THE SAVAGES AT BAY.

FTEN have I passed a
knoll^ on the direct road to
Walker^s Mills^ where
happened, nearly two centuries ago,
a thrilling affair, the account of
which is well worth being repeated
to successive generations for all time
to come.

It is with fear and trembling I
include this story, for not many
years ago the same narrative, in the
main, appeared in some magazine
or paper, which I do not now call
to mind. The facts of the story
must have been suggested to the
author by some one who had lived
in these parts, for we surely claim
L.tfC. 99

the honor of its occurrence, there-
fore I dare to add it to my collection
in this little volume*

It was March, the month when
the thrifty women always made
their soap. There was many a
reason why this particular time was
chosen. In the first place, after the
long and tedious winter, the collec-
tion of ashes was very considerable ;
again, the brooks and hollows were
busy taking away the great deposits
of snow and ice in this form. The
skilled women well knew that the
water formed from snow was the
very best in assisting the soap ** to
come,'^ and this indeed was no
whim. While not a chemist lives
who can explain, it is nevertheless

true that there is a vast difference
between the liquid that comes from
the beautiful snow and plain rain-
water that falls from the clouds*
All the preparations for this one
great event of the year had been
made. The day preceding ''the
mash'' (which must be about so
much Chaldaic to the present gen-
eration) had all worked like a
charm^ and as the shadows of even-
ing approached in the little clearing
the year's supply of this article was
nearly completed and the whole
attempt crowned with success.

I may take time here to explain
that this homestead was made up
of the shrewd grandmother, a maiden
aunt, the married daughter and her

family, consisting of a husband and
children nearly grown down to the
** infant in arms/^ On these busy
days the children must look out for
each other as best they could, — little
regard was paid to the ^* outgoings '^
or ** incomings ** of childhood in
these days of yore.

The sun had nearly lost itself in
the west when a little lad of the
family rushed to the house in a
state of great excitement, explaining
as best he could that while playing
in the underbrush, not far below the
house, he had seen the most ugly
face peering from the bushes and
then disappear before a good view
could hardly be taken. This was
enough; all these women of the

o

H

CO

household knew what that face
meant^ — the Indians had again re-
turned among them. Not that they
were much disturbed for their own
safety, since this particular house
was one of the kind then often found
which of itself was a sort of a
garrison. Every one knows that
neighbors then often meant miles of
separation, and the garrisons were
not too convenient, so now and
then a house would be built unusu-
ally strong, with port-holes at the
corners and a lookout over the main
entrance, so constructed that hot
water or something worse could be
thrown on the head of the savage
in case of too close an invasion. It
was just such a house as this on

which my story hinges. Every
family of this neighborhood knew
that^ in case of a sudden attack, this
was the haven to which they would
flee for protection.

The last kettle of soap was already
bubbling over the fire in the gener-
ous fireplace, and the porridge had
been set aside on the hearth, prepar-
atory for the evening meal, while in
the ashes was slowly roasting the
precious potato, in anticipation of
the return from the distant grist-mill
of father and the eldest son. Now
their fears were wholly turned to
these loved ones ; perhaps the Indians
had already waylaid them and their
mangled forms might even now be
lying in the forest, food for the hun-

104

gry wolves which infested this part
of the country. But for a time this
anxious household must turn their
efforts to the protection of their little
stronghold^ knowing the ways of
the savage so well* Hasty prepara-
tions were made for their reception
when the attack should be made.
They did not have to wait long. In
this particular raid their plan, from
the first, was to ^^fire^' the house;
but the women, equal to the emer-
gency, were nobly keeping them at
bay and there was no question but
theirs would be the final victory.
After a short period of exciting
defense the Indians retreated. Well
the keepers of the little fortress knew
the meaning of this movement. The
105

next attack would be the ** battering-
ram " at the entrance,

** Now^ girls, let^s make ready for
them. Rebecca, take yourself in a
hurry to the lookout. Prudence,
you stand ready to pass the buckets
and I will bale the hot soap from the
kettle. Benjamin, you keep a sharp
watch at the eastern port-hole, and
Mary, you have the bullets handy.^*

So this grand old ancestor had
not long, for here they are already
with the huge log, borne at the door
end by four or five of the burliest
among them.

'' Wait till I give the word/' cau-
tions the grandmother ^^Here,
Prudence, pass up that crock ; now,
Rebecca, fill it from this bucket;

io6

CO

c
3
3

T3
o

have all in readiness, and when
they attempt the battering down of
the door give them hot soap quick
and fast/^

All these instructions were obeyed
to the letter and such yells as fol-
lowed their scampering retreat were
seldom heard. Never did swift-
running Indian run as now, and the
little household was soon left alone
with their anxiety for the safety of
the father and son. A short time
after the retreat of the enemy the
male members of the family returned,
a little belated on account of the bad
paths of March, greatly astounded
by the harrowing news awaiting
them, for, unaccountable as it may
seem, they had seen neither *^ hide
107

nor hair ^* of an Indian on their long,
wearisome journey.

In conclusion I must ask indul-
gence while I tell you that ever after
the Indians avoided that habitation
as they would a pestilence, supposing
the hot soap must be the work of
evil spirits, and all white men who
could reach that little stronghold in
times of danger felt as safe and
secure as though not an Indian
remained on this side of the great
ocean.

io8

'■a

THE OLD FALLS.

EACHER, would you like
to go with us to-night to
the Old Falls May-flower-
ing?'' so said a bright-eyed little
maiden^ at the close of a tedious
afternoon session, so long ago, that
teacher herself was only a demure
little girl, scarcely past the time-mark
of sixteen summers. To her these
** Falls " had such an interest, for
did she not see still the clearing
made so many, many years ago by
the faithful squaws. All the tradi-
tions point to this sequestered place
as once the seat of the largest Indian
settlement to be found in this portion
of the country. Also it corresponded
with that period when the fishermen
109

first began to make homes for them-
selves on the coast bordering the
same section. So this village grew
and grew until the women of the
clans could no longer drag wood
from such a distance to keep the
camp-fires bright^ and one night
every man, woman and child for-
sook this beautiful spot for a home
where their fuel could be more
easily obtained, leaving the fertile
hillsides with the sunny corn-fields
for the occupation of some future
settler in the years to come. For a
long time it remained the trysting
place of wild animals and birds of
various kinds, until one day two
English brothers, seeking a locality
where could be operated a crude

saw-mill^ decided this to be the place
sought and without delay removed
their families thither, bringing with
them a third family, who had been
close friends in Old England, For
several years they found their home
here, living at peace and hannony
with each other, knowing but little
of the doings of the outside world,
friendly with the natives, happy and
contented. With the dawning of a
new spring the relations with the
Indians seemed not too encourag-
ing. The cause had seemingly been
slight, but nevertheless the few
scattering settlers began to appre-
hend great fears for their safety.
It was now the families at the
"Falls" removed to the edge of

New Hampshire, the three families
remaining in company as before*
Very romantic is the future of two
descendants of these families driven
about by the many vicissitudes of
life.

Long years passed on, — m a
family who claimed their ancestry
from these English brothers was a
likely daughter, with whom a son
descended from the third family fell
deeply in love* The young lady's
father sternly objected to the lover,
for reason of suspected intemperate
habits. The dutiful daughter finally
yielded to the importunities of her
parent, not without many a sigh for
her lost love, but because this old-
time daughter firmly believed that

no luck would follow a marriage
not sanctioned by a father's blessing.
Not long after, the young man's
family, English-like, took to roving,
finally settling near the extreme
western limit of ^^The Ohio,'' the
term generally applied to the West
in those remote times.

The faithful young woman, after
long months of sorrow, was finally
able to crush down her devotion for
her early lover and married the man
of her father's approval, who only
lived about six years to enjoy the
companionship of this sweet woman.
Years this lady remained a widow,
beloved by alL Then her family
decided to improve their fortunes by
going ** West," by the usual mode

'13

'W.^1

of travel adopted in the early part of
the last century* Of the fatigue of
the long and wearisome journey
nothing need be said, until one day
the little widow, walking cheerfully
along after the ** prairie schooner/'
to help relieve the monotony fell to
musing on the scenes of her girl-
hood* Of late the discarded lover
of her youth was always in her
dreams, whatever she might do to
dispel them. Suddenly she awak-
ened from her reflections to find the
wagon out of sight. After hurrying
forward for some time she became
fearful of having lost her way;
great was her relief to see, in the
distance, a comfortable house appear
in view. Her gentle knock was
114

'V,

^

4

answered by a dignified gentleman
of middle age. After the first glance
each was too mystified to utter a
word — but only for a brief moment
— for in the quiet traveler the lover
recognized his sweetheart of long
ago.

A few more words and the story
is told. The lady had walked
straight to the home of her first love,
now for some years a widower.
Within three weeks from the time
of this remarkable meeting this lady
was installed as mistress of the
substantial Western farmhouse. A
very prominent business man of
one of the rival cities of the West is
a son of this marriage, their only
child. We often hear that ''truth

"5

is stranger than fiction." However
this may be, the story is a reality,
and the names are withheld only
for fear of giving offense to parties
interested.

--W^^-itUlllii

Ii6

THE VESSEL
WHAT LAUNCHED HERSELF/'

HERE is probably no river
of its size in the State of
Maine that has borne upon
its waters so many craft of different
kinds as the Kennebunk, Its green
banks were settled by a race of men
who naturally turned to the sea for
a livelihood.

Near the ^^ upper tide water " the
shipyards were numerous^ and it
was at one of these places that the
unlooked-for launching took place.
The vessel was about one hundred
and fifty tons, a large craft for those
days, and was planked and partly
finished outside. The painters had
removed some of the shores or sup-
117

ports and did not properly replace
them, and that night occurred a
heavy spring rain, which melting
the ice under the remaining shores
so loosened them that the vessel fell
on her side and ** took ^' to the river.
The next morning was very foggy,
and at about six o^cIock a. m,, when
the workmen began to gather for
their day^s work, one was observed
standing on the ** brow stage ** and
gazing into vacancy. No vessel!
nothing left but the chips and debris
usually surrounding a new craft.
He summoned his companions, and
going to the water^s edge they could
dimly see through the fog the faint
outlines of the ^^runaway,^^ across
the river, high and dry, but reclining

ii8

?o

*

on her side, apparently resting after
her sliding experience. She was
soon surrounded by workmen, who
finished one side as she lay, and
with infinite labor turned the other
side up and so finished their work.
She was then launched, apparently
none the worse for her nocturnal
adventure. Her top was finished at
the wharf.

Women in those days, as in our
own times, must have played an
important part in local affairs, for
this craft had a queer name,
*' Mary's Pantaloons.'' The model
from which she was built can be
seen to-day, in a good state of pres-
ervation, with that name on the
** label end." Neither history nor
119

tradition records the floating of that
name on the high seas, but if so the
answer to ** Ship, ahoy ** must have
caused laughter and surprise to the
hailing vessels* Perhaps — who
knows ? — that may have been the
small beginning of the ^^ woman's
rights ^' to don the unmentionables*
What they hoisted to masthead to
designate the craft's name to inquir-
ing minds is a question on which
tradition is silent, and we will be*

A few rods above this locality a
slip was built from the brow of the
hill to the water's edge, and used
for sliding lumber from the banks
to scows that conveyed their loads
down the river to vessels loading
for the West Ipdia trade* A famous

cow owned by Captain John Bourne
was pastured in this vicinity, and
coming one morning to the slip
attempted to cross. At the foot of
the slip lay a scow waiting for a
load, and the first installment to that
end was the cow, in a demoralized
condition, on the bottom of the scow.
This second impromptu launching
was a finished product.

Speaking of vessels built about
this time (1814), they must have
been the pride of their owners. It
could not have been for their shape
or comeliness, but for a liking for a
craft that would ''walk the water"
like a thing of life. A vessel was
built about this time in the Gilpat-
rick yard, near Wonder Brook,

and named the ''Old Favorite/*
Tradition says she was a lucky
boat and did well for her owners,
A year or two afterward another
was built in the rear of the McCuI-
lock house and called the ''New
Favorite/* Whether she was the
equal of her sister is an unanswered
question* Nothing remains of the
old shipyards but the site; also of
the men who made these places
busy hives of industry but very few
remain.

The Fishermen.

CLIPPINGS.

MONO the well-known
characters of the early-
part of the century was
one whom we will call Jotham
Jones* Jotham was equally addicted
to the intoxicating cup and to the
composition of impromptu verse.
One evening he was visiting the
principal grocery store, where, in
those ante-prohibition days, West
India rum was a prime staple*
Jotham's stock of ready cash was
quite exhausted, yet he longed
ardently for another sip of his favor-
ite beverage, so, approaching the
storekeeper with his most insinu-
ating smile, he made this modest

suggestion : —

123

Mr. Moody, if you will

Let me have another gill,

I declare, by sin and sorrow,

I'll fetch you in the money to-morrow.

It need hardly be added that the gill
was forthcoming.

On another occasion^ being asked
his opinion of a new house of wor-
ship then in process of erection, he
promptly replied : —

A very nice church

And a very nice steeple,
A very nice minister.

But a hard lot of people.

The visits of the Muse were not
confined, however, to Kennebunk-
port, for the writer has always been
told that a disconsolate widower in
the adjacent town of Lyman placed
over the grave of his departed part-
ner the following inscription : —
124

Be she dead? and am she gone ?
And is I left here all alone ?
O cruel Death ! that wast inclined
To take she 'fore and leave me 'hind.

He was^ perhaps, of a more sen-
timental nature than another worthy
of the same town, who while taking
a walk over his farm with his new
pastor remarked, with a pensive air,
as he waved his hand toward a little
graveyard, ^'Fve got two or three
real good women a-Iayin' there/'

The New England virtue of thrift
flourished here probably as well as
anywhere* One of the natives went
to the village to buy a pair of boots
for his younger brother, a growing
boy, who would be well fitted by
number sevens. At evening he was

125

seen returning, bearing in triumph
a huge pair of cowhide elevens*

** You see/^ he explained, ** I found
they was askin^ jest as much to the
store for the sevens as they was for
the ^levens, so I thought I might's
well git my money's wuth/'

And the poor fellow had to drag
the ponderous number ^^'levens"
around all summer.

Sectarianism was often intense
and bitter in those early days, but
Christian charity was not altogether
lacking, for we know of one good
old soul who was wont to affirm
that she ^^ didn't believe it made any
difference what abomination any-
body belonged to if they was only
good."

126

o

A THANKSGIVING ANECDOTE.

Then praise for the past and the present ■we sing.
And, trustful, await what the future may bring;
Let doubt and repining be banished away,
And the •whole of our lives be a Thanksgiving Day.

jHIS festival, which began
with the earliest settlement
of New England, has now
become so peculiarly appropriate, as
an expression of gratitude to God,
that the day is little likely to be
superseded by any set apart, not
even our much-honored Memorial
Day. As each succeeding year
brings about events which must lay
a greater claim to the historian's
annals, it is feared that the whole
story of the origin of Thanksgiving
Day, as taught a generation or two
127

passed by^ will eventually not find a
place in the histories of the youngest
nation. To me it is the prettiest
story recorded^ — how these Pilgrim
Fathers^ ever mindful of the bless-
ings they received from the ** Giver
of all Good/^ set apart a day for
" thanksgiving and prayer to God ^*
for His watchful care over them in
preserving their lives through the
year and in giving them an abun-
dant harvest.

But mine is no history^ only a
few reminiscences, so I will tell what
happened in a little neighborhood
many years ago. There was once
a time when there lived a toil-worn
widow in the neighborhood known
as ^^Saco Road.^^ With all her
128

might and main she struggled to
keep together her little brood, but
many a time grim Want would
loiter at her door, let her do as best
she might to banish him. The lot
of this good woman had ever been
a hard one» Wedded in her earliest
youth to the lover of her choice, she
had, too soon, found that the staff
upon which she leaned was nothing
better than the rotten bamboo. His
persistent habits of intemperance,
added to slothfulness and lack of
enterprise, very quickly brought
him to be only one more burden
added instead of the helpmeet which
Heaven designed* Thus matters
grew worse and worse, until this
wretched man, greatly to the relief
129

of the community m which he lived,
returning homeward from one of his
drunken orgies, deliberately walked
through DurrelPs Bridge, then in
course of repair, and by so doing
performed for his family the greatest
kindness that could ever be credited
to his memory.

Although beyond the power of
neighbors to always keep this poor
woman above want, still there must
be one day of the year in which
full and plenty should be found in
her house* So as the day appointed
for Thanksgiving approached, each
neighbor vied with the other in their
provision for the widow.

Then there came a year when
the praise-deserving mother thought

how happy she would be if it were
in her power to prepare a Thanks-
giving feast at her own home; that
her children, in after years, might
remember that they had seen mother,
once at least, cooking at her own
hearth the savory food to which
they looked forward from one year
to another. So the good neighbors
this time provided the raw material
for this " day of days/'

The arrangements for the occa-
sion were nearly completed; the
earthen pan was filled to overflow-
ing with savory mince-meat, all
ready to be constructed into pies for
the feast. The final task of gather-
ing fuel to heat the old brick oven
would complete all the arrangements
131

for this great occasion^ so she called
her eldest child^ Joe, who had ever
been the best of lads, to assist her in
dragging from the grove the needed
quantity, leaving the younger chil-
dren to care for themselves. Oh!
what a great day was this to those
little people! When the mother
finally returned to the house, what
was her dismay to find that the
hungry little ones had devoured the
last morsel of mince-meat, leaving
the awkward earthen pan as clean
as though its late contents had
never been there. Then the tired
little woman, for the first time in all
her trials, utterly broke down, and
wept bitter tears of disappointment
for her lost mince-meat.

Cd

"X

During my childhood days, return-
ing from school one day for my
noonday meal, what was my sur-
prise to find a well-dressed, elderly
gentleman occupying the place of
the honored guest at my mother's
dinner-table. This gentle old man,
noticing my perplexity at the familiar
way in which they addressed each
other, as "Sallie^' and ^^ Joe,'' by
way of explanation related the story
given above, and concluded the nar-
rative by declaring that his mother's
tears at the loss of her mince-meat
were the means of influencing his
whole future* As he told his mother
by way of solace, '^ When I am a
man I will have things different
from this." A year or two after —

yj^y^

and he completed every mile of the
long journey to the new country of
the Aroostook on foot; succeeding^
by his honesty and integrity, in
accumulating sufficient wealth to
insure (as he said) the respect of all
his immediate relatives and friends.

134

c

3
Ou

n

THE ROPE- WALK.

EAR the present site of the
Maling house^ away back
in the long, long ago,
stood the head-house of the famous
old rope-walk. What a pity such
a reminder of the flourishing days
of the great West India trade could
not have been preserved to the pres-
ent time, to afford interest and gratify
the pleasure-seeker in his search for
relics of by-gone days. When we
come to consider that not one person
now survives who can give authentic
information about it, surely does the
past industry become a subject of
speculation. Like a dream we call
to mind that the old folks used to
have 'Mong as the rope- walk" in

speaking of objects of unusual length.
One old friend said, in her estima-
tion, it must have been a quarter of
a mile in length*

What a curiosity! — the quaint
old wheels, one at either end, each
provided with six spindles, that six
crack spinners might operate at one
time. So often have the old people
told me of their mode of spinning
the flax, that in my fancy I think I
can see them to-day just as they
appeared* You will know that
these spinners must ever walk back-
ward; that the hank of flax from
which they spun the rope was car-
ried around their body and drawn
out in this way; that one hank was
sufficent for the journey down the
136

walk and back; that a curious old
bell was employed to give signals to
the boy at the wheel to stop; that
these same lads would patiently turn
these wheels until the day was done
for the pittance of fifteen cents ; that
these spinners never drank water,
considering that liquid good enough
to wash in occasionally, but on each
return trip, before starting with the
next hank, drank copiously from the
bucket of grog always to be found
in the head-house; that in laying
up the rope and cables two magnifi-
cent horses of great beauty were
employed ; that the rope made must
have been of inferior quality, since
so much tar was used in its con-
struction, — the trade at this time

being mostly to hot climates^ this tar
would naturally form a great objec-
tion when heated by tropical climes ;
that the employees of this rope- walk
held one day of the year in especial
veneration — St. Anne^s — for the rea-
son that this good Queen once paid
a visit to a rope-walk^ spun a rope-
yarn, and at the same time raised
the wages of the workmen.

The business of this particular
rope- walk must have been for a
time a profitable one, since the busi-
ness of the West India trade called
largely for its several products* It
is said by some of the ancients that
the last eight-inch cable turned out
from this place was divided among
persons interested and kept for a
138

Olcl as Capt. Gosnold.

souvenir, since products of this kind
were no longer needed, their use
having been replaced by chains.

Few are the reminders now left
of the great West India trade, which
did so much in the building up of
the settlement, the prosperity of
which led many to believe this to
be the future Portland of Maine,

139

LOSS OF THE BARQUE ISADORE.

^i^;: HE one great tragedy in the
^gS: later history of this town^
^^M the loss of the Barque Isa-
dore almost in sight of the town,
will always remain fresh in the
memory of the inhabitants. The
story has too often been told to need
a place in this little volume, but the
tragic cast of the circumstances con-
nected with it are so thrilling that
one never loses his interest in their
recitaL

Sailors are ever a superstitious
class. The stopping of a vessel on
her ways, from a seaman^s point of
view, betokens bad luck ; no sailor
leaves his port willingly on Friday.
Again, these people entertain great
140

f{

I

I

-fiuHH

faith in dreams and omens. All
these bad indications, so ominous to
the seaman, attended the starting
out of the fated '' Isadore/' Among
the seamen to first sign ^* articles''
for the voyage was one Thomas
King, a sailor of much experience.
Three or four days before the
barque sailed, King had a strange
dream, which so disturbed him that
he made up his mind not to ship,
and those to whom he told it were
also impressed. King disappeared a
day or two before the vessel sailed
and did not show up again till four
days after tfie wreck. He offered to
pay back his advance wages, but the
owners had little disposition to blame
him for the desertion and refused to

141

accept his offer. The most singular
fact in connection with the fulfillment
of King's ghastly dream was that
seven bodies were recovered to fill
the seven coffins he had seen in his
dream. Mr» King never fully recov-
ered from the effects of the shock.
A month after the tragedy the body
of the cabin boy^ George Perkins
Davis, was cast up from the sea.
Remembered by the few who now
survive him as a lad of uncommon
promise and high character, also
possessed of very rare mechanical
skill, it would seem strange indeed
why so suddenly he experienced so
great a longing for the dangers of
the sea. Not even the persuasion
of his only sister, slowly dying of
142

consumption, could dissuade him
from his purpose. The parting
between brother and sister was
more than touchiiig. Realizing that
upon earth they might never again
meet, she counseled him regarding
his future, ** Promise me/* she said,
^*that, v/hatever your calling in life
may be, you will strive to be noble,
true and steadfast/' The final
good-by was about to be said when
he confided to his sister his impres-
sion that he would be the first to be
taken, and so it proved. In the old
Pump and Block Building, devoted
to his father's business, some years
since destroyed by fire, was to be
seen his full name, carved so artis-
tically by himself the last thing before

143

going on board the ** Isadore ^* that
none could ever pass without having
their attention attracted to this fine
piece of workmanship.

144

PEDESTRIANISM.

ROM the time when those
uncouth fishermen of the
seventeenth century re-
ceived their shock of surprise at the
uncommon speed of the Indian. lads
down to the present day^ Kenne-
bunkport has ever retained the dis-
tinction of being remarkable for its
feats of pedestrianism. With rare
delight the Indian children would
loiter about the homes of these early
settlers^ curiously watching every
movement they made^ often greatly
puzzled at the domestic doings of
the women, so unlike the methods
of their own people, until between
their strength of numbers or long
continuance, these visits many times
145

became annoying. Then the white
woman would offer the largest some
trifling gift^ such as a piece of pork,
for instance. Immediately after re-
ceiving the donation they would
start on the quick run by one of the
paths leading homeward, and so far
as the eye could see them, in their
flight through the forest, they were
still holding the same gait, and it
was a well-known fact that these
children of the red man could com-
plete the whole journey to their vil-
lage at the Old Fafls, four leagues
or more away, and never find them-
selves an iota the worse for this trial
of their feet* So-called civilization
has taken the kink from their limbs ;
at the present they boast of no more
146

celerity than comes to the share of
the enlightened white brother.

Before the time of the railroads,
bold sailor-men were often compelled
to cover the distance to the ships
upon which they would embark in
Boston by means of the rough ** post
road/' It is believed they experi-
enced no dread of this long walk,
generally going in company with
some congenial messmate, varying
the monotony of the task by an
occasional draft of West India rum
at the convenient houses of enter-
tainment scattered along the route.
Many charming yarns are afloat of
these early crusaders ; your patience,
however, will be wearied with the
relating of only one or two. It seems
147

that a stalwart seaman was walking
in company with a burly African,
the proposed cook of the voyage;
being thirsty, they sought the favor
of a drink of cool water at the first
tavern they reached* The bar-
tender, having an especial aversion
for a man of color, was openly inso-
lent to them both* Not wishing to
have trouble with this renowned
athlete, they took a hasty leave and
hurried onward* The farther they
•v^alked the more the white man
brooded over the late indignity* It
was not his wont to brook affairs of
this sort in any such peaceable man-
ner* The negro by his side trudged
patiently on, little caring what rough
jokes should fall in his pathway so
148

A profound scholar, who lost no opportunity in seeking to
elevate to a higher standard of knowledge those about him, now
promoted to the higher education not revealed to earthly mortals.

long as he reached his destination in
safety. After traveling a long dis-
tance from the place of the encounter
(the one who told me said ten miles)
he confided to the colored man his
conviction that he must return and
settle with the offender as his case
deserved. The negro gave the
assurance of holding the culprit
while the other should administer
the thrashing, and return they did,
the punishment there received being
so conclusive that the next time we
hear of the recipient is in the capacity
of the itinerant clergyman. Little
things often turn the natural bent in
the future of one's life.

Another account, according to an
old citizen (who always told the

149

truth), is here given* A well-known
Cape Porpoise resident had obtained
employment at his particular craft in
the city of Boston, Thanksgiving
Day drawing near at hand, he de-
cided to spend a part of the day, at
least, with his family. The hour of
four in the afternoon of the day pre-
vious had already struck before the
faithful man could get under way
for the journey homeward* He had
proceeded but a few miles when he
overhauled a man of slight stature,
on his way to Wells, heavily bur-
dened with a good-sized ham and a
large spare-rib* They quickly made
each other^s acquaintance, but the
Cape Porpoise man had grave mis-
givings of his companion reaching
150

CO

his destination with that heavy load.
Unfortunately, he could give him no
assistance, being well burdened him-
self with bundles of his own. To
the great surprise of the larger man,
his fellow traveler never faltered in
the long distance passed, and they
reached Wells at eleven in the fore-
noon of the next day. The Cape
Porpoise man, after parting with his
new-made friend, pushed on with
renewed courage towards his home,
arriving in time to do justice to the
substantial feast prepared for this
occasion. Then, paying his large
circle of friends and relatives a flying
visit, he started to return and, in
company with his Wells friend,
reached Boston in time for work the
151

following Monday, neither none the
worse for their mammoth effort of
the last few days.

Later we hear of the farmers'
daughters allured to the busy hum
of the factories, ten miles away*
Not very often could these charming
maidens endure a Sabbath away
from the cheerful home, so at the
close of the long Saturday of labor
hasty preparations would be made
for the weary walk homeward, and
this is not all, for so precious was
their wardrobe that, nine cases out
of ten, the principal part of their
earthly possessions would accom-
pany them on each of these trips.

But the great pedestrian of all is
*^ Life,'' — you would know him

152

should you happen his way. Of
him it is related in good faith that
once, starting in the early morning,
he proceeded to Biddeford, ten miles
away, to secure a whitewash brush
and returned in season to faithfully
perform the regulation day^s work
at his craft. Now, Mr. Weston!
now. Bertha Von Hillern ! beat this
record when you may !

One word and this subject is
concluded. The wise men at large,
not so many years ago, realizing
that Scripture was being fulfilled,
and each generation was surely
growing "weaker and wiser,^^ set
about for every possible means to
avert the inevitable of this assertion.
All the manly sports and devices
153

that we hear so much about from
our colleges and other institutions of
learning were certainly brought
about with this in view* To what
degree of perfection this sensible
attempt has reached, every intelli-
gent person is well aware. But,
with all that is done, we somehow
notice a lack in the training of the
feet* The great masses of our
broad country do not exercise them
as they should* Too few recognize
the great benefit of a delightful walk*
Perhaps the censured football game
may have, among the many objec-
tions offered against it, this virtue of
tending to bring into play muscles
in the human mechanism otherwise
so sadly neglected*
154

-«<

7/

TEN-HOUR
SYSTEM IN KENNEBUNK.

REVIOUS to I85I the
hours of labor in the ship-
yards were from five
o^cIock in the morning until seven
o'clock at night, divided as follows :
from half-past six until seven o'clock
for breakfast and at noon an interval
of forty-five minutes for dinner* It
was a long and dreary day. The
idea of shorter hours of labor was
being agitated in a quiet way, for it
was believed that the employers
were so strongly opposed to a change
that an immediate suspension of
work or the prompt discharge of
the men advocating the same would
follow*

155

The first move was made by
demanding and taking one hour at
noon for dinner* The bell, as usual,
rang at 12.45 and but two men
responded and they afterwards re-
turned to their seats on the first
handy stick of timber. At one
o^cIock one of the strikers rang the
bell and the men promptly responded
with a cheer and an immediate
starting to work. After this gaining
of their point the hour at noon be-
came a fact. In the opposite yard,
operated by Mr. Jacob Perkins, the
men did not have the courage to de-
mand their hour but resumed v/ork
at 12.45 p. m. The next day at
noon they remained seated until one
o^cIock, when they went to work
156

w

with a will accompanied by a cheer
from Titcomb's yard. The propri-
etor, Mr, Perkins, on hearing the
noise from the men, stepped upon a
large stick of timber to ascertain the
cause of the cheers, and he was told
that in future one hour's respite
from labor at noon would be claimed
by all of his employees.

The carpenters at Kenncbunk-
port in the meantime had obtained a
concession of eleven hours, previous
to which they marched in a body to
the several yards at the Landing
to help what they could the men
employed there. The writer of this
sketch was a young man, working
at fastening, which at that time was
job work. Hearing the discussions

157

going on around him by the car-
penters, and thinking that action
was better than words, he formed a
plan which he thought would be
successful* He was fearful, as many-
others were, of a discharge or some-
thing worse, for one of these con-
tractors had been interviewed and
had in a most decided manner (it
was not the Titcomb Brothers) inti-
mated that the ten-hour system met
his views exactly, but it should be
ten hours in the forenoon and ten
hours in the afternoon. In J 852 he
passed to that land where it is prob-
able the whole twenty-four hours
are used, for it is said of that locality,
^* There is no night there/^ The
individual or writer mentioned
158

above wrote some notices calling a
meeting of all those interested in the
ten-hour question to meet at the old
brick schoolhouse on a stated even-
ing, there to discuss this question
and to take action if possible. To
show the feeling on the question at
the time, this notice was posted after
nine o'clock in the evening. A set
of resolutions was prepared for the
occasion, of which the following is
a copy:

Resolved, That ten hours' labor
shall constitute a day's work.

Resolved, That we, the carpen-
ters employed at this time, will work
under no other system but that
called the ten-hour system.

Resolved, That every carpenter
and employee in the several yards

159

be invited to sign these resolutions
and aid in carrying the same to a
successful termination.

These resolutions were prepared
before the meeting by the writer to
save delay and were presented to the
men assembled as the first action to
be taken. Some funny speeches
were made^ some earnest and to the
point, one notably by a present resi-
dent of the Landing (Mr, M, C,
Thompson), who said he was soul
and body in favor of the resolutions
and had come to the point that he
did not care whether school kept or
not, his books were torn up. The
meeting at this time was at fever
heat and the resolutions were passed
by an almost unanimous vote. All
1 60

present were then invited to the
desk to sign their names to the res-
olutions, and all did sign but some
few noted exceptions, who would
rather work fifteen hours than incur
their employer's displeasure. Some
out-of-town, transient they called
themselves, were not willing to sign,
as they considered it a local affair*
One man then made a humorous
speech in regard to the action taken
and moved that these resolutions,
with the signers' names, be presented
to Mr. Titcomb by a committee
appointed by the chair. These res-
olutions were presented to Mr. G.
P. Titcomb the next day and were
received in a courteous and genrlc-
manly manner. He immediately

i6i

granted their request^ or their plea
embodied in the resolutions, and
presented a paper on his part, which
he wished every one of his employees
to sign. It read as follows :

^*The signers of this paper agree
to be bound by the following rules.
The hours of labor in this yard
shall be as follows, — commencing
promptly at seven o^cIock a* m.,
working until twelve o'clock ; com-
mencing at one oVlock p. m. and
working until six p* m. Each man
expected to be promptly at liis work
at hours named* Tardiness in com-
mencing work and loitering and
inattention during working hours
will be followed by a prompt dis-
charge of the offender/'

All the men signed this paper*
There was no strike, no stoppage
162

of work. It became a certain fact
without any friction, no hard feeling,
and good conduct on both sides.

Let me here pay a tribute, well
deserved, to one party on this
question. He was the workmen's
friend, for in many ways he kindly
advanced their interests. Regard-
ing his rights as an employer, which
properly belonged to him, he granted
their demand, all they asked in fact,
without a protest, and he is remem-
bered to-day by a few survivors,
who were connected with this affair,
as a good employer, a good friend
and an honest, upright man.

163

IN WAR TIME.

S EACH year sinks^ with
all the preceding, into
oblivion, it slowly but
surely lessens the number who
have a vivid recollection of the
War of the Rebellion. For my own
part, when all things else fade and
are forgotten, the impression made
on the plastic mind of my childhood
will be as distinct as though the
work of the present time* Although
the principal theme of conversation
in my humble little home, the events
which led up to this terrible strife,
as then heard by me, were like a
confused jumble. At any rate, I
remember that my dear mother had
no sympathy whatever with the
164

yo

n

struggle and only regarded the
whole thing as a needless massacre
of the ^Mlower of our manhood/^
which headed the conflict between
brother and brother in our well-
beloved land.

How clear to my vision is the
scene of my home the morning the
news reached us of the bombard-
ment of Fort Sumter, Child that I
was, I could fully realize that now
the struggle was surely begun ; no
earthly power could now quell the
quarrel ; the fight must now go on
to the bitter end» And was ever
war commenced in a more remark-
able manner? Think of a contest
between eighty and three thousand
men for so many hours and not a

i6.s

man lost on either side* After this
event things get confused again in
my memory, until one morning I
knew by my mother^ s demeanor
that, for some reason, she was in
great trouble* I had heard them
talking of the *^ draft ** for some time,
but could not understand its mean-
ing* How could a girl of eight
summers know that the United
States, if necessary, could raise, at a
short notice, the largest army of any
nation on the globe by this very
means? It was harvest time, and
the women of the community were
occupying all their spare time in
gathering husks from the corn in a
neighboring barn, for then very few
fine mattresses were found in the

i66

\lf

H

n

= I.

homes of the middle class^ the usual
method being a bed of sweet husks,
surmounted by a famous one of
feathers, both resting gracefully on
a clean, corded bedstead, all com-
bining, I assure you, to give a
resting place upon which even an
unhappy king might repose in peace.
On this particular afternoon there
was an unusual number gathered
in the barn, all busily at work on
the odorous corn, each one working
in silence, with grave forebodings of
what was to come, when lo! a
messenger appears with the belated
newspaper. Never before did our
boasted freedom of the press bring
such dismay to so large a company
gathered. It seemed, for a moment,
167

that all were speechless; then a
neighbor by my side breaks the
stillness* ^^Read^ let us know the
worst; it will be best/' Then he
begins^ and^ will you believe me,
not one person there but had some
dear one represented in that draft,
which included all able-bodied men
from the age of eighteen to forty-
five* Dollars were not too plenty
in our midst at that time, and many
there knew that should their cher-
ished husband, son or brother pass
the hands of the surgeon at Port-
land, nothing could save them from
their terrible doom, for this is just
the way they all looked upon it, in
their ignorance of warfare in those
days, I remember the very words

i68

of one woman between her sobs:
"If my husband has to go, I shall
bury him when he leaves me; he
will never return, it is impossible/'
This poor lady was the mother of
six children, an infant in her arms
at the time. For my own family
not one escaped the draft, down
even to the third and fourth gener-
ation. You may be sure no more
husking was done that day. Almost
as soon as mother and I reached
home we were joined by a saintly
old lady, who called to offer condo-
lences to my mother on the draft of
her only son. Before taking her
departure she engaged in fervent
prayer, and such a prayer — it seems
to me, if called upon, I could repeat

" ^,

<rH4f>r*

it word for word, but it would be
sacrilege to do it* As soon as she
was risen from her knees she glided
softly to my mother^s side and said
in an undertone, which my quick
hearing caught, ^^Now, see here,
couldn^t you cheat a little in his age ?
You know he looks small to be as
old as nineteen/^ My keen sense
of the ridiculous, even then, caused
me to see the incongruity of the
suggestion, especially so soon after
committing all human events to the
wisdom of God, and I could hardly
restrain a snicker, although I rea-
soned that perhaps in such trying
times as these even God Himself
would need a little help.

It would take too much space to
170

o

!?

;m^

relate the many interesting occur-
rences which immediately followed
the draft. Perhaps^ however, one
little happening would not be out of
place. In one way and another all
the good men were relieved from
duty as a soldier, unless wishing to
serve, except one friend of ours, the
father of a large family. Every
neighbor was greatly concerned for
his future, should he be found battle
worthy. Then the women held
conclave, — something must be done
to save ''Uncle Nick'' from the
war. My mother was a surgeon,
in a way, so she decided on the
course to be taken. Years before,
while ''Uncle Nick" was yet a
youngster, he had been afflicted with
171

a frightful abscess near the ankle
joint; in healings a most hideous
scar had remained^ but the ankle
was as good as ever. Now what
did these wise women do^ but with
certain home-made preparations cre-
ate a bad-looking sore just above
the old scar; of course all this would
result with no harm to the limb.
When called for examination ^' Uncle
Nick*^ went limping in and was
accosted with the somewhat impa-
tient salutation, ^^Well, what ails
you, neighbor? ^^ (The surgeon had
not been very successful in obtaining
recruits from this county.) *^ Oh ! ^*
says ''Uncle Nick/' ''I am all right,
I have rather a bad ankle, but I
reckon it won't hinder me being a
172

soldier/' The surgeon now made
examination. Oh ! those bandages —
these wily women of the last gener-
ation knew well how to bother the
surgeon — every pin inserted in such
a way that its head could scarcely
be found ; the crossings, this way
and that, were such that, on any
other occasion, one who knew how
work of this kind should be done
must have been provoked to fits of
uncontrollable laughter* But this
official felt very little like merriment ;
his duties just then were of the kind
not mirth-producing, you may be
very sure* Oh ! these were trying
times in the history of our land!
When, at length, the last wrapping
was removed the officer started back

173

in dismay, ^^How long have you
had that scar ? ^* he inquired, ** Uncle
Nick/^ ever himself whichever way
the breeze, replied, ** That, sir, has
been there now for abouty twenty
years/^ The surgeon, supposing
the abrasion above to be a continu-
ation of the old trouble, hastily re-
placed the wrappings, directed him
to pass on, informing him that with
such a leg as that he could be of no
assistance in marches, and conse-
quently not wanted in the service.
So soon as ^' Uncle Nick^^ closed
the door between them he hastily
turned about and, shaking his closed
fist in the surgeon^s direction, gave
vent to his feelings something like
this : ** These two legs, you darned
174

Old-Fashioned Corner.

old quack^ will take me to Kenne-
bunkport inside this and twelve
o'clock to-night '^ (it was then about
five in the evening), and no persua-
sion could induce him to avail him-
self of the return ticket to this place,
for walk he would and did, arriving
home a little before midnight, in
time to take part in the substantial
feast prepared fcr the occasion. For
so sure was the good wife of the
success of the ruse, that eleven
pounds of corned beef had been
secured as a nucleus of the supper
to be given to all who participated
in the affair. For my own part, I
cried myself to sleep that night, being
denied the pleasure of counting one
more at this most famous tea-party

ever given in the old town of Ken-
nebunkport*

People have^ long ago, grown
weary of tales of this most cruel
war, for such it was, — the battle of
Antietam alone being the bloodiest
day ever known to modern history.
Still the young among us find inter-
est in hearing of how the school
children of our village, instead of
passing Wednesday and Saturday
afternoon holidays in their usual
pastimes, repaired to an upper room
in the Custom House and under the
guidance of the teachers there pre-
pared lint, for the wounds of the
soldiers, from old linen furnished at
the hands of the matrons.

Then there were also the amusing
176

features* One worthy, well-known
Irishman willingly took up arms for
the glorious cause. When he was
bidding his wife adieu at the final
moment he cautioned her, should
she hear that he was killed, not to
pay the least attention to the report
until she heard from him.

I think one of the most pathetic
events which I call to mind was
the case of a heart-broken mother
mourning the death of a favorite
son, who fell in the blood-curdling
battle of the Wilderness. Her con-
stant entreaty was that his body
might be returned to its native soil.
After almost superhuman efforts the
remains were forwarded to the old
home. At the very moment of

177

burial some one discovered that it
was not the son at all, but ^he body
was committed to the dust and the
fond mother never knew, to the day
of her dying, that the grave con-
tained any other than the beloved
form of her darling boy*

With the lapse of years the sad
as well as the humorous events of
this time are fast being forgotten.
It is earnestly hoped that any feeling
of bitterness that may still lurk in
the hearts of the again united nation
may be banished, and the rising
generation sensibly acknowledge that
if there was wrong on either side it
did not happen yesterday, therefore
the present line cannot be blamed
for what their fathers brought about
178

in their zealous protection of what
they divined were the rights of the
government*

No more shall the war-cry sever.

Or the winding rivers be red ;
They banish our anger forever

When they laurel the graves of our dead.
Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day,
Love and tears for the Blue,

Tears and love for the Gray.

179

MY CRUISE UP THE RIVER.

Do we ever glance far back-ward
To that race of long ago ?
Their canoes then sailed this river,
Just as ours sail up and dow^n.
And 't^vas then unbroken forest
Where is no^w the smiling town.

OT every girl or boy of
larger growth yearns for
those happy days of child-
hood, especially after meditating on
the restraint which generally at-
tended them. However, if there be
one spot reserved by stern fate
where child-life was full and free, it
was in old Kennebunkport during
this period of life in our generation.
Mentally reviewing our own life,
there passes the memory of a certain
afternoon when my uncle so kindly

I So

n

interceded for me to return with
him to his home far up the river by
means of his awkward wherry, the
pride of his sailor heart. Oh ! the
pleasure of that trip taken so long
ago! for would not the dear aunt,
whom I loved next to my mother,
be sure to meet us at the door to
extend a welcome such as we may
never know again until, are we so
worthy, the portals of the great
beyond are entered. But the trip
up the river, — uncle knew from
boyhood every foot of the shore on
either side — as who of his time did
not? So he talked and told, while
we so faithfully listened ; explained
the dangers and troubles one might
experience in passing the ^* Falls,'*

iSi

iust above the *^ Old Locks ^^ ; related
to me the sad story of the sea-cap-
tain's charming English wife^ who,
lured to her husband's quiet estate
on the banks of this river, was well
content until her beautiful boy, the
one child of their union, was snatched
by the relentless hand of Death,
leaving the despairing mother to
silence her woe by plunging into
** forgetfulness '' from the wharf, then
so plainly seen opposite the captain's
estate. When the Upper Falls were
reached we must loiter in our cruise,
while he looked for the Indian grave
his grandmother so long ago had
pointed out to him. Then, when
the story of the grave was told, we
must go across the river to see the
182

po

H^-*

very spot where a settler once passed
through such terrible danger and
yet outwitted the Indians. Very
near the close of the seventeenth
century, said my uncle, there could
be seen, about half a mile above
these ^* Falls,'' the typical home of a
powerful pioneer, so fearless of the
various dangers surrounding him
that even the blood-thirsty Indian,
with all his hatred for the white man,
possessed a feeling akin to awe for
this determined representative of
Old England soil. One afternoon
this settler was suddenly disturbed
by the unusual sound of the bcU
attached to the neck of his one great
treasure, the family cow.

183

So he took his trusty matchlock

And into the forest hied,
Following the distant jingle

Where it seemed his steps to guide.

But he very soon discovered
That the ringing seemed to be

Right and left, and then up yonder
As if sounding from a tree.

So he knew^ the cunning Indians
Had decoyed him in the wood,

But determined to elude them
If, by any chance, he could.

No'w upon the ground w^ere lying
Trunks of mammoth hemlock trees,

HoIIow^ loRs, how^ very easy
He could hide in one of these.

So he crept into the nearest

And w^as soon well out of sight.

Where he found the space so ample
He had room lo sit upright.

Of the futile attempts of the Indians
to rout him from his place of security
little need be written. Knowing the
methods of the savages so well, he
concluded to wait with patience until
they grew weary in their efforts.
184

At last, every scheme known to
them was exhausted except facing
the mouth of the log; this they
would not do for fear of the trusty
matchlock; the Indians firmly be-
lieving that whoever lost his life by
means of the white man's musket
was forever debarred from the
^* happy hunting ground/' After
awhile all was silent in the forest,
and still the white man waited until
fully sure of their departure he came
forth from his hiding to make hasty
strides to his home, unmolested.
There he found the precious cow
peacefully chewing her cud, all un-
mindful of the fearful danger to
which her doting master had been
so lately exposed.
185

During the relating of this story
the old wherry was making good
time towards reaching her destina-
tion; now, as Durrell^s Bridge
appeared in sight, he must relate
the story of the Durrell family and
the Indians, altogether too harrow-
ing except for history. Here, in this
vicinity, was repeated the land slide
which so disturbed the early settlers,
causing gruesome reports to be
handed down from one generation
to another. Above the bridge a
good-sized volume could be filled
from accounts of occurrences still
preserved in one way or another.
Perhaps, to many, nothing to be
found along the banks of the river
would be of greater interest than the

1 86

^'old mortar/^ plainly seen in a flat
ledge on the east side of the river,
marking the site of a considerable
Indian village of the long ago»

1 87

THE SEAMEN.

Heaven is as near from the ocean as by the land.

ITH sadness we revert to
the gradual thinning of
the ranks of seamen, once
so frequently met with in our seaport
town. Theirs was an individuality
peculiar to no other class. Where
is the person, young or old, who
would not be fairly entranced by
their gift in the recital of adventures
such as will be known before long
only in tradition? Rarely do we
meet, in our daily walks, a single
type of this class, when, not many
years since, fully half of the male
population were either seafaring men
or connected with the business of

1 88

Says Uncle Thomas: "There are three times in a person s
history when he is equal with all mankind: when he is born,
when he is at the polls and when he is dead."

the sea. Somehow^ we who inherit
the sailor blood cannot accustom
ourselves to this gradual decay.
The mariner's way of speech and
their nautical phrases ring with a
certain charm on our ears not no-
ticed by any other form of speech,
be it ever so elegant. While pon-
dering on the history of Kennebunk-
port in the days when this class of
men were so often met, there appears
the recollection of two or three who
were more or less ** characters '^ at
the period in which they lived.

Not so many are now about
who remember much concerning
that typical old tar, Elias Hutchins.
Among the earliest recollections of
the writer there comes distinctly
1 89

before us a certain night, in early
harvest time, when this old fellow
was our guest over night* We had
seen men of his calling as company
of the father before, so we well knew
it meant the best part of the night
passed in exchanging their thrilling
yarns, or comparing notes of times
when they were messmates. To
the great delight of the children,
curiously lingering to hear the first
stories, was the calling up by each
of their presentation to the ** God of
the Sea/^ In imagination these old
fellows recalled the busy prepara-
tions made for this initiation, as the
'Mine of the equator ^^ drew near;
of the consent, always willingly
obtained from the captain by the
190

first officer, to allow all arrange-
ments for the ceremony to be carried
out in a style befitting so ancient a
custom. Then, when all was ready,
'' Ship, ahoy '' would be heard from
the weather-side, ** Hello,'' the mate
would answer, and the name of the
ship, from whence and the destina-
tion would follow in quick succession.
When finally ''Old Father Neptune ''
had been conducted to the seat of
honor prepared for his majesty, the
landlubbers would be brought for-
ward for the ceremony of initiation,
without which they were not, in
those days, full-fledged seamen.
The impromptu barber, fitted out
with his barrel-hoop razor and dish
of lather, created from coal-tar and

191

other ingredients more or less vile,
together with the needful brush,
usually made from the end of an
old lanyard, found himself a person-
age of great importance in this most
exciting event of the sea* Occasion-
ally the tables were turned and the
object of the ceremony would send
the participants in hasty confusion
forward, and only for the timely
interference of the mate would his
majesty himself escape a downright
good thrashing* If, however, the
occasion was attended with no
drawbacks, the second and final act
was the baptism of the victim by
means of the practice known as
keelhauling. Finally, after the affairs
of the ship settled down to the usual
192

tenor of their way, the newly pre-
sented member mentally concluded
that he had justly earned his rights
to the privileges of '' Old Neptune's ''

domains.

Old age creeping on, ''Uncle
Ellas'' found, all too late, what a
serious thing it may be for a man to
come down to the evening of life
without the whereof for his keeping,
and the time came when a contro-
versy arose between our town and
the adjacent one of Hollis to decide
which should bear the burden of
expense incurred for his mainte-
nance. The improvident sailor,
contentedly musing on some inci-
dent of life on shipboard, sat serenely
gazing at nothingness throughout

193

the whole controversy, A day or
two after he confided his sentiments
respecting the business of the law
as follows: '^I vow and declare,
before the lawyer from HoIIis was
done talking I was fully convinced
of my belonging to Kennebunkport.
Before the fellow for the * Port * had
finished his plea I was sure I was
a native of HoIIis; but when the
judge gave his charge to the jury I
concluded that I hadn^t a being on
God's footstool/' Poor, old'* Uncle
Elias!*' for many a year has the
grass been growing as peacefully
over his allotment of six by four of
this Mother Earth, and his memory
as well cherished on account of his
sunny disposition and shrewd phi-
194

losophy, as those of his time who
had financially made life a greater
success than his own.

195

THE CHURCHES.

P^p ITH a feeling approaching
fSmm reverence one gladly refers
^ ^^1 to the churches overshad-
owing their native village* What
recollections flit^ like a panorama, in
the memory of one past the middle
mark of life* Now a gay wedding,
at which some beautiful maiden
sails forth to a distant home, full
willing to leave behind the large
background of cherished relatives
and doting friends* Again the dole-
ful sound of the funeral bell, calling
us away from the busy cares of life
to assist in the last sad rites of some
loved one whose familiar face would
be seen among us no more*

How sweet is the remembrance

iq6

of my early childhood! Oh! those
busy preparations for church — how
carefully was the little blue and
white checked gingham suit brought
forth from its hiding place ; then the
shoes — did ever princess of royal
blood wear the like of my blue
morocco shoes? And, to crown all,
there was the beautiful leghorn hat,
decorated with real blue ribbon, even
to the bridle, so indispensable in the
adornment of this article* But you
must know that this elegant costume
could be donned only on Sabbath-
day* Never was it worn on any
other occasion. Now how patiently
I waited through the eloquent ser-
mon of our beloved pastor, Rev,
Mr. Nott. Then at the close of the

197

service dear, old "Aunt Lizzie Life ^*
was sure to be onhand, in the
church entry, to call together the
little ones, her especial charge, and
expound to them in her own sweet
way the blessed truths of the GospeL
How this respected lady loved her
church, and how more than faithful
was she in the cause to the very end.
Then that great landmark, the
Orthodox Qiurch. Why, when I
was a small girl the quick peal now
and again of the church bell told of
the presence of fire in our village.
If the warning smoke was in the
direction of this old church, instinct-
ively my trust would be that this
valued building might still be safe,
selfishly regardless of what home or

place of business might be in immi-
nent danger from the flames. Often
has it been said that the designer of
the stately steeple was taken from
the poorhouse in Portland that this
monument of his skill might be con-
structed, whose great architectural
beauty none can dispute. What a
pity for a man of such genius to
die an object of charity !

Last, but not least, we have the
Methodist Church, so cheerful in its
appearance. For many long years
this house of God remained silent
while the others rang out so sweetly
the call to come and bear witness to
the truths of the doctrine. Within
a few years a wealthy church-goer,
realizing the great need of a suitable
199

bell^ generously bore the expense of
having one of great value placed in
the belfry* An amusing incident
goes concerning it* It seemed, to
the ears of one of the communicants,
the faithful sexton caused the bell to
peal forth, in dirge-like tones, these
words :

S-a-m G-o-u-l-d gave the b-e-l-I,
S-a-m G-o-u-I-d gave the b-e-I-1.

On being told of the semblance, he
declared, in good humor, that they
might rest easy, never would that
bell thus hold forth again, and it
never did* Perhaps can be said of
the popular Woman^s Aid Society of
this denomination that it boasts the
dignity of a male member among
the number. Of course the applica-
tion for membership was only a

joke, but the honorary life brother
always responds, without a demur,
when his yearly dues are presented
for payment* It is of a couple of
the most worthy of the sisters of this
church that the following is told.
Phronie — everybody knows Phronie
— lives a long way from church;
the way also is very lonely. One
dark evening, at the close of the ser-
vice, these ^* mothers in IsraeV^ for
such they are, remarked to Phronie,
"Don't you feel timid to go by
yourself that long, lonesome road?
We should be very much afraid.^'
** Well,'' answers Phronie, *' I sup-
pose you would. Those who serve
the devil by day are always afraid
of him by night."

In summing up the little talk of
the churches^ it will not be out of
place to declare that the most of us
who claim the advantage of many-
years of life under the shadow of
these different places of worship
could hardly decide which we could
spare the best, and, God granting,
may they long continue to thrive
and prosper, for who would live
where they could not boast of the
influence of Christian churches?

w

r

"UNCLE JOSHUA'S"
ULTIMATUM TO SPAIN.

(Parody on an old Yankee song.)

You government of Spanish Dons,

your King and Cortes, too,
Consider well what you're about

and what you mean to do.
If you go to war with Yankees Fm

sure you'll rue the day
When you rouse the sons of Liberty

in North Amerikay.

You think our navy are but few
and we are traders' sons.

And since you sent the '^ Maine"
up we have not many guns;

We'll give you a little history per-
haps you do not know,

How we fought for freedom and our
rights and won them long ago.

Our mother was a stern old dame,

she had a heavy hand,
She fought us on the ocean and also

on the land ;
We fought for freedom from our

yoke as Cuba does to-day,
We gained the prize and licked her,

were victors in the fray.

And then when we were growing

old she tried a bran^ new plan.
She took our seamen from our ships

her own stout ships to man.
Once more we battled for our land,

we won in hard-fought fight ;
We did not fear to fight our foe, for

we were in the right.

204

a

o

51

n

Once more, FII tell you of the time

when a million of our sons
Marched forth to aid their native land

all armed with Yankee guns.
The war was long and bloody, but

freedom won the day;
We banished slavery from our land

and from Amerikay*

A cry comes from a Spanish isle

near to our southern shore,
A cry from starving thousands who

are dying by the score;
They stretch their fleshless hands to

us for succor and for life,
They ask for freedom and for food,

for us to end the strife.

205

We are bound to heed their thrilling

call, for we ourselves are free,
We will burst the chains that bind

them, we^U give them liberty ;
We will save them from your savage

hand, the hellish work shall cease
And in the place of starving men

We'll make a lasting peace*

Another loud and anguished cry

comes from your Spanish isle,
It tells of Spanish treachery, it tells

of Spanish guile;
It calls aloud for vengeance for a

most damning crime.
The darkest deed, unparalleled in

the annals of our time.

2C6

This crime and others at our hands

will meet with sure redress,
And satisfaction for the wrong we

forcibly shall press,
For we feel that justice must be

done in every nerve and fibre,
So you had better give the island

up and call it '' Cuba Libre/'

We know a Spaniard found our

land in 1492,
If you wish to find it again all you

will have to do.
Like the gas-man for a leak with

lighted match in hand,
You'll surely find us in your search,

both on the sea and land.

THE TOWN HOUSE.

ANY have been the uses
and purposes to which
the time-honored Town
House has been devoted* One large
volume could easily be compiled
from the amusing incidents which
have occurred at the annual town-
meeting during its long lifetime*
Many times it has been the scene of
a protracted series of religious meet-
ings* The writer will never forget
the pathos and fervor attending
these gatherings* Could some of
those dear^ familiar faces now gone
on be seen once more among us^
what a welcome there would be for
them*

The business of ship-building
208

often brought strangers of many
climes into our midst, so it was not
infrequent for your ears to be gratified
with something like the following:

^^Dear sinners, I was out in mine
boat one day, my frent and mine,
and de winds blow, and de wave
he did roll high, and de boat he did
shook, and dear brodder, dear sister,
I was no more 'fraid than you would
be to sit on that red-hot stove over
dere/'

Certainly the youngsters would
grin over the like, but the sincerity
and earnestness of the speaker left
their impression, nevertheless, and
there is no question but many have
chosen the *^ better part ^' from hear-
ing just such distorted offerings as
this,

209

Upon another occasion, when
ship-building was very flourishing,
there were found among the stran-
ger employees quite a number who
leaned towards the Adventist form
of belief. So removed were their
views from those of the true creed
of this denomination that one of the
younger members, who possessed a
talent for impromptu rhyme, was
tempted, in a mood of contempt, to
produce these verses : —

Could old King David just for once

To the Town House repair,
And hear his Psalms there w^arbled iottb.

By gracious, how he'd swear.

Could old St, Paul just venture forth,

From higher scenes abstracted.
And hear his Romans there explained.

By George, he'd leave distracted.

One dear old brother, ** Uncle
Wheelwright,^^ who formerly was

a

W"^^

1!P

m ■

w

K^,

%

hx, j'^^u

1 1

i 1

■lEn

:^

1

..jB^3B

r

A^r-

r^^^iiL

the life of these meetings, has, long
ago, reached the end of the heavenly
way. What a power was this
Christian man in those social meet-
ings! There was a certain manner
in the way he presented his convic-
tions any great divine might crave
to possess. So when he honored
these simple gatherings with his
presence, those who were privileged
to be there were sure to be richly
benefited by what they heard.

This school of people, we are so
sorry to say, are fast disappearing.
Very seldom are their quaint sayings
now heard. We, in turn, of middle
life must seek to adapt ourselves to
the present phase of society, and so
adjust our manners and ways to

those of the coming generation that
our memory to them will be a pleas-
ant reminder of days long gone by.
Close neighbor to the dilapidated,
old Town House is an edifice known
in history as the Church of Burbanks
HilL Formerly the site was occu-
pied by one of much larger size,
supported by the same denomination.
About these two old churches many
traditions can be gathered. One
stern old divine would enjoin upon
his people the importance of their
diligence in searching the Scripture,
In pleading tones he would exhort
them not to leave their Bibles on
the shelf until the word ** Damna-
tion ** could be plainly written in the
dust on the cover. Tradition gives

H ^^

s m^

n

c

3

this church the first to be heated by
means of a stove* In the early
days of this church such an absurd-
ity as artificial heat by any means
would not have been tolerated, the
people of that time believing the true
Spirit of God within of sufficient
warmth to suffice all purposes. The
day came at last when the first
stove to be placed in a house of
worship found its way into this
church. From tradition we learn of
the stern disapproval of a goodly
portion of the assembled congrega-
tion. Very soon the heat became
so intolerable that improvised fans
were seen moving vigorously in
various parts of the church. The
sequel of the whole proceeding, how-

213

ever^ is quite amusing^ since no fire
as yet had been started in the inno-
cent cause of all this discomfort*

The old First Churchy organized
at Kennebunk Landing in \ 750, and
afterwards removed to the meeting-
house now occupied by the First
Parish (Unitarian) at Mousam Vil-
lage, was, I think, the first religious
society of any importance in the
two towns* Residents of Lyman
(not then called a town), Wells and
Arundel attended at this place*

The salary of the minister was
paid in English money and by sub-
scriptions* Colonel John Mitchell,
who built and owned the house
recently occupied by Amasa and
Milo Huff, was a liberal supporter
214

at one time of this infant church,
A new minister (Bourne's History-
will probably give his name) was
employed and a subscription paper
started for funds to pay his salary,
church expenses, etc. Colonel Mitch-
ell placed his name on the paper for
ten pounds sterling as his share in
keeping the machinery in motion.
At the end of the first year the
Colonel refused to pay but five
pounds, as he thought conscien-
tiously that was all he was worth
as a preacher, and high at that, and
so endorsed it on his bill.

215

>^

H-.

EXTRACTS
FROM A FAMOUS PLATFORM.

HE subjoined extracts are
taken from a copy of reso-
lutions written in a spirit
of mischief by an intelligent lady of
our vicinity^ Mrs, A, A. Wells,
While we would differ with our
esteemed friend in some points of
her platform^ were we President of
the United States, yet the true liter-
ary worth of the production is not
unworthy of notice,

J St. I shall stop rum manufac-
ture, put all there is in the bottom
of the ocean; put all the tobacco
with it, then if it kills the fish I shall
save the men, and as it costs our
nation twice as much for rum as it
216

Mrs. A. A. Wells.

does for bread, and as much for
tobacco, and if I have this money-
coming in, I shall be getting rich
fast, and the people will have for
their part clear heads, contented,
happy homes and comfort instead of
vexation and hankering for drugs.
I shall have peace in many homes
that are now far from it. With this
money I shall strive to elevate and
educate the masses, for I should not
be proud to be president of a nation
where progress, peace and prosperity
did not abound. I ever feel that to
have happiness in this world and
the next we must form correct hab-
its here and must try in our limited
way to shed happiness on others.
2d. I should not have the off-

217

scourings of the old world poured
upon our shores^ but strive to edu-
cate and elevate our own people*

3d» I should elevate and educate
the women of the land^ for noble
sons have noble mothers, and if
woman has an incentive to engage
her mind in things of practical utility,
will not those whom they present
to the world receive an impetuosity
for good ? Madame De Stael once
asked Napoleon, ** What can we do
to increase the glory of France ?^^
He replied, ^* Educate, elevate and
improve the mothers of France/^

4th* I should settle all disputes
by arbitration. When a mother has
trained through infancy and child-
hood up to manhood^s prime a lovely
218

son, and when he is ready to act
his part on the journey of life, to see
him shot like a dog for the reason
some one has quarreled whom he
never saw, would be a deed I should
not be proud of,

7th, I should strive to have our
ministers who now preach for the
rich preach and realize from this
text, ** The way to show our love
to God is to show it to our fellow

men/'

8th. I should have our college
students work off their love of hazing
by tilling an acre of land to keep
them in vegetables and to help the
old people from wearing out on their
account.

9th, I should place all the taxes
219

on the land, so foreign syndicates
that have bought up our land to get
rich on the industry of the toiler
may be glad to part with it to set-
tlers at reasonable prices,

10th, I should strive to have
all classes realize the sacred truth
that God^s laws do not bend to suit
man^s whims, whether in or out of
marriage, and that an interest in
each other^s welfare should be the
tie that binds beings together, I
would not complain were the parents
the only sufferers, but when we see
the children forced into life from
many ill-mated beings it is sorrow-
ful to behold.

SOME FAMOUS MEN.
IHERE once occurred one
of the most harrowing of
_____ Indian massacres, just
above DurrelFs Bridge, is to be seen
an old homestead, commanding a
fine view of the winding Kenne-
bunk River together with the coun-
try surrounding it* Our attention
is called back to the memory of the
original owner of this estate, not
only for the reason that he was one
of the great founders of the profit-
able West India trade, but because
through his line we were able to
furnish for our government, in its
greatest trial, a Secretary of the
Treasury, who succeeded in honor-
ably discharging his trying duties

with satisfaction crowning him on
every hand* The old folks used to
have many interesting tales of this
typical old Scotchman^ some of them
very humorous indeed* It is related
that once a customer at his store on
the Landing was caught in the act
of stealing a pollock fish* Mr,
McCuIIoch, who could be stern
upon occasion^ although generous
to a fault and hospitable beyond
degree, willingly forgave the theft
on condition that the offender would
repeat after him these lines :

From Adam McCoIIoch

I stole a pollock.

And now^ I'm sorry for it.

The man, who was something of a
wag, instantly repeated the lines,
exactly imitating the tone and voice

^

" ^

fa

Ik? "

^

A Respected Citizen.

of the merchant, who had the pro-
nounced Scotch accent, ^'Darn
you, I didn^t tell you to say it that
way/' said old Adam. However,
the laugh went round the store, the
great man participating as heartily
as any there gathered.

Not long since a prominent lady
of our community was speaking of
a most pleasant call made by her at
the Washington home of the late
Secretary. The old gentleman re-
ceived her with great delight, extend-
ing extreme hospitality, since her
early home was very near his own,
and her father had been a valued
friend of his youth. Said he: ^^I
wish to talk of the old times, when
I was a struggling young man,
223

teaching the children of the neigh-
borhood that I might obtain means
to further pursue my education/'
In bidding her adieu he took occa-
sion to tell her that to her father he
owed much of his future success in
life^ since from him he received the
impetus for a higher education, so
hard to obtain then, as nearly all
men of intellect were so deeply en-
gaged in gaining wealth that they
were obliged to neglect the storing
of the mind with the wealth which
never loses in intrinsic value* That
he must have been uncommonly
handsome is proved by the following
little story* While sojourning with
an old sailor uncle I one day heard
him rejoicing over some article in
224

praise of the late Secretary* " Uncle/'
I said, *' I think you must be very
proud that Mr* McCuUoch was born
and raised in our midst/' ** Why,
child/' he said, ''I should be glad to
own him for a fellow townsman
even if he had never made a name
for himself, for you know well that
it has been my privilege to see
many a noted man, not excepting
His Imperial Majesty, Alexander E.
of Russia, and even he could not
compare with this man in personal
appearance/'

An amusing story used to be told
concerning the old family tomb, built
so long ago* This ancient-looking
resting place can be seen plainly on
the line of the Sanford & Cape

Porpoise Railroad, I would caution
tourists against making the attempt
to read the interesting inscription on
the slab, since the arches, after the
*^oId country ** custom, were probably-
constructed of wood, which during
the lapse of years has, most likely,
become ** unsea worthy/^

The representation here given is
the great house of the village, gen-
erally known as the '* Mansion/*
The circumstance that it was begun
and completed during the Embargo,
or while the second War of the
Independence was going on, also the
knowledge of its having been con-
structed solely to aid workmen to
obtain a livelihood during this starv-
ing period in our country^s history,
226

together with the many interesting
anecdotes connected with the build-
ing of it, combine to cause every
native or relative of ^^The Bunk"
to regard this structure with a pride
approaching reverence, not enter-
tained for any other abode found in
these parts. For years and years
this fine, old homestead has been
the summer residence of the late
Charles P. Clark* The news of his
recent death in a foreign land fell
like a pall over the whole commu-
nity. The recollection of this noble
man will ever be most pleasant
among the villagers. While being
truly great, his demeanor towards
those he met while sojourning in the
town was simplicity itself. When
227

taking a morning ramble, one might
often hear the heartfelt salutation,
^^How do you find yourself this
morning, * Old Silvertop ^ ? ^^ Then
would follow the kindest of inquiries
for the health and welfare of his
old f riend. Again, ** Good-morning,
^ Uncle Horace,^ things have changed
in Old Kennebunkport since the
time when I was a student at the
^ Bread and Molasses High School/ ^'
In justice to the ** Bread and Molas-
ses High SchooV^ it may well be
said that if for lunch this delicate
dish constituted the principal part of
the menu, then was it well for the
learner, for does not that wonderful
production of the past, ^^The Tal-
mud,^^ direct that if a man would
228

5«

9*

r

r

be wise let him eat freely of bread ?
The meaning of this declaration is
quite obvious* Results, however,
tell the story, and the derided ^* Bread
and Molasses High Schoor' cer-
tainly claims its share of commenda-
tion in the making of the character
of the late lamented gentleman.

Gliding along the banks of our
romantic river, one may notice
a quiet homestead, now famous as
the boyhood home of a great and
noble man. Senator George C» Per-
kins and ex-Govcrnor of California*
As falls to the share of every noted
person, the varied accounts of the
successes and achievements of Mr*
Perkins are too well-known to the
country at large to be held upon, at

229

lengthy in the present sketch. It is
believed that this plain^ little home
of other days has never, for a mo-
ment, been forgotten by the Senator,
even the old well by the roadside
would claim the honor of a visit to
furnish a quaff from its pure depths
on each of his many visits to the
haunts of his youth.

This illustration gives us Captain
Frank Walker, the favorite sea-cap-
tain, as he appeared when driven
from his office for three mortal hours
by a large colony of wasps. The
wise insects naturally supposed the
Captain to be the cause of their exile
and hastened to show proper resent-
ment, if, for once, he attempted
entrance at the office door. Perhaps
230

CO

o

3
(«

o

O

n
O

o3

n

n
5

all the nautical phrases allowable
from the quarter deck were not
vented for the benefit of the uncon-
scious offender, who so recklessly
destroyed the home of the wasps,
thus causing all the merriment of
that fateful summer afternoon*

We give the ship ** Vigilant ** and
barque "Hiram Emery ** in course of
construction in 1878. The respected
builder of a hundred or more of
these craft, Captain Nathaniel L.
Thompson, has, long ago, been
gathered to the home of his fathers.
Perhaps no business man of his time
ever possessed a firmer hold on the
affections of the people than did this
worthy descendant of a fine, old
family of Revolutionary fame.

231

A MODERN GHOST STORY.

O BOOK of this kind
could be complete with-
out a genuine ghost story-
sifted in here and there* The one
I am about to relate is of the kind
which will not draw upon sensitive
nerves, neither will sleep be banished
from having read the account of it.
Once there lived in these parts a
family of brothers, seven in all, who,
as the time came for them to leave
the family nest, each and all took to
the sea as willingly as though this
division of the earth^s surface was
truly their natural element*

Years came and went, and these
hardy sailor brothers occasionally
met at the old home, there to discuss
232

their adventures, exchanging thrill-
ing tales of their life on the ocean,
dwelling mostly on their hair-breadth
escapes from the rough waters they
had met. For diversion, like all
seamen, they took keen pleasure in
playing tricks upon each other, to
the great amusement of the neigh-
ix)rs. One evening the conversation
turned upon the uncanny. How
these brothers scouted the idea of
the supernatural. Then the jolliest
among them decided he would test
the metal of him who was most
skeptical. Now about two miles
distant lived a favorite aunt, a wom-
an of uncommon intelligence. This
particular brother, the hero of my
story, dearly loved to linger at her

233

house* The distance to her home
was greatly shortened by a cut
across lots^ the path leading the
whole length of a large, country
burying-ground* The very next
time he set out in this direction the
mischievous brother concluded to
avail himself of the opportunity to
have a little fun at his expense. He
purloined from his mother^s generous
store of linen a large, old-fashioned
sheet, secreting it safely in the shed
until the shades of night should
afford friendly aid in the success of
his project, ^^Now,^^ he reasons,
^* brother may return at nine, but
more likely it will be eleven; how-
ever, I will be on hand, whatever
time he passes through the grave-
234

?o

I

o

yard/' So for two mortal hours he
crouched behind an ancient grave-
stone^ whose generous size was
amply sufficient for the hatch-door
of the ship he had so lately parted
company with. When his brother
was nearly opposite the stone^ he
suddenly rose^ shrouded in the
snowy-white sheet as if just risen
from the grave^ and made attempt
to embrace the brother. For an
instant the astonished brother was
spellbound, then, recovering his com-
posure, he pitched into the appari-
tion with such a vengeance that
there was a *' resurrection " in a
hurry, and the baffled ghost was
only too glad to beg for mercy*
The offender was let off only on

235

condition that he would try the
same trick on a younger brother
who often went the same route, not
always to see the good aunt, for in
this case there was a charming
sweetheart who unconsciously drew
him in that direction. The promise
made that night to the brother was
faithfully kept, and with what suc-
cess the victim can tell himself, if he
pleases, for he is often seen about
these parts, I am sorry to have to
account for the spirit in this case,
for no one enjoys having a good
ghost story exploded. However, I
am obliged to confess this to be the
fate of all goblins I have met, being
able every time to prove their identity.

236

4 r

3*

— ■ O-a <

~ a-

a- TO Qu M
a, St O^Ou

"• Sj '^ a*
^ O^ <*_ o"

Qu

v^^;^i5^^ .

4 ■v^

"oo^

. •^.<.,

.^'^^

<f'

<*

' '-^Sh^'

V'-^ \

V^ ^ ^ ' 0 A

^- ^,^ ^r^

c

^ ^^^.^^'

V- V

O 0^

.^-^ -

^r ^-

s^ v'N

^^, <^'

.0-

> ,M ' " . ■''..